Stella
I storm through the apartment lobby doors. When people look at me, they immediately move out of the way, parting like the Red Sea as 1 make my way towards the elevators. I smash the button and cross my arms over my chest, glaring at the metal doors.
Who the hell does Adrian think he is? How can he think that showing up in front of my apartment building and causing a scene would make me want to stay married to him? If anything, he just proved to me that I should divorce him as soon as I possibly can!
I can’t get his look out of my head. The way he hesitated to respond to my question, looking everywhere but me as the realization set in that he wasn’t there for me, but for his own self importance and image.
It only makes me even more angry.
I step inside the elevator and turn around, glaring at the world. Nobody enters the elevator with me. Instead, they divert their gazes and turn away, waiting for the other elevator to come. The doors close and I let out a frustrated sigh and cover my face with my hands.
I should have seen this coming Adrian has shown me exactly how much I mean to him time and time again. Throughout our marriage, I held onto a sliver of hope that he would change his ways, but today showed me that he is incapable of doing so.
Adrian only cares about a few things. He cares about his company and job, his image, and Clara. That’s all.
My mind flashes back to that fateful day in the hospital. The nurse told me about Adrian’s signature on release forms about signing my heart away. I desperately wanted her claim to be false, to be something that will not haunt me for the rest of my life.
But it was true.
Adrian had signed the consent forms and was ready and willing to give my life up for Clara, someone who has treated me so cruelly throughout my life. The thought of it makes me nauseous.
The elevator doors slowly slide open and I have to hold back the tears that make my eyes sting. I exit, taking each agonizing step towards my apartment.
A single tear rolls down my cheek. I wipe it away as soon as it reaches my lips, the salty taste bringing me out of my subconscious movements.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. I suck in a sharp breath and pull the phone out, staring at my father’s face and name on the screen. My heart aches, swallowing any leftover piece of happiness that I once felt from this morning. How can I explain to them that their daughter is trying to escape a loveless marriage? How can I explain to them that their daughter’s husband used parts of her body to save her foster sister, the woman he truly loves?
Just the thought of it makes me nauseous. I sigh and use my free hand to fix my hair and face, wiping away the tears. If I can make myself look better, maybe I can fake feeling better so that they do not become worried over The call goes to voicemail but my father immediately calls once again, my phone vibrating in my hand. I reach my apartment door and slip out my key. I place the phone between my shoulder and ear as I unlock the door.
“Dad?” I breathe into the phone, trying my best to cover up any hint of sadness that may be present in my tone. Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Stella. Everything is okay, no need to worry about us,ny father responds, his voice still holding its
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authoritative yet gentle tone. “Your mother and I were wondering if we could get the chance to see you sometime
“Didn’t I just see you this morning?” I say in a teasing tone pushing into my apartment before locking the door behind me. I trek deeper into my home, taking in the comfortable surroundings, feeling my body immediately
relax..
“Yes, yes you did,” my father chuckles, “but this is about something else. It is important that we have this conversation soon.”
My heart stops beating and I freeze in place. Does he know about what Adrian and my foster parents have done to me?
“Okay,” 1 chirp, masking my nervousness.
“Come by whenever you’re free, Stella, okay? Whenever works best for you works best for us,” I can hear my father’s smile over the phone.
“Okay! Sounds good, I’ll see you soon, then,” I quickly hang up the phone call before he can say anything else.
I rush to my bedroom, tears now freely flowing down my face, and faceplate into the bed. My sheets absorb my tears as I let go of my pent up sadness.
An hour passes and my body has calmed down. I sit up and grab my laptop, needing a distraction from my thoughts. I quickly open up the hacker mainframe and a list of jobs floods my computer screen.
I aimlessly scroll, looking over offers that have been sent to me with project files attached. They’re fine, okay, but the pay is way too low for what they’re asking me to do.
A notification ding catches my attention. I click on it and immediately regret my decision.
Adrian: Tracer, I have another job for you.
Tracer: Not interested.
I go to click out of the messaging board but Adrian still follows up with the project details. He needs someone find any fresh articles about him and his wife and to delete them from the internet, making them appear as if they never existed.
Adrian: If you do this, I’ll give you five million dollars.
Tracer: Please stop contacting me. I’m not interested in working for you.
I slam my laptop closed and toss it to the other side of the bed. A scowl forms across my face and I glare at the metal box, crossing my arms over my chest.
Of course, Adrian is still worried about his image. Hell, he is even flaunting his vast wealth to get the job done. It angers me more than I realize it does.
I don’t want to work with someone who only cares about themself and the way they appear to the world. Adrian only cares about the surface level of things and only does what he wants to do. He never takes other people’s feelings and circumstances into consideration whenever he does something
All I know is that if I stay in this marriage with Adrian, my life will continue to deteriorate and I will never fully be free from him. Distancing myself from him is the best couple of action. I can’t let him see me ot have access to me.
If he does, he will think that it is okay to show up to my apartment and cause a scene. He will continue to think that it is okay to demand that I obey his command since I are his wife.
Once I am divorced from him, I will be able to breathe agal I will be able to live my life the way I should have
been living it this whole time. I will no longer be subjected to hospital rooms, petty arguments, and false accusations from Clara,
