NovelBar~Camila’s POV~
It was only after I screamed at Chris and Mark I noticed my husband’s face was full of regret. I mean, my ex-husband, but why?
Why does he feel bad about what he did? That is precisely what he wanted.
Why would he need to bring along a buddy when he divorces me? Wow, Chris is awe-inspiring! Mark was pity-stricken for me, as
he continued to look at me. Why? This is what I did to my pathetic self. My relationship with this scumbag should have been over
months ago. In this marriage, he has been nothing more than a whore. There were a million reasons for me to divorce this
dickhead. But I didn’t, my body suddenly started freezing. I was brutally cold. I didn’t like the woman I was becoming. I didn’t like
the woman this divorce had made me. Mark left, but the bumbling moron stayed. As my hands lay on top of my work desk, I
squeezed my fingers together and then pressed my head on top of them. I grinned. I’m not sure why, but I smiled and extended
my hand toward the fucking necklace he used to dupe me this morning. I grabbed the necklace and yanked it from my neck,
throwing it at him. He didn’t say anything while he stood there. He then walked away without taking his necklace with him.
*****
Camila stuffed her divorce papers into her laptop bag and convinced herself it was all a nightmare. However, this was not a
dream; it was real. She flung herself onto the chair, her arms on her chest. She got a distinct impression that her heart had been
savagely pierced. She was having difficulty breathing. Her chest pains were becoming very severe. She rose from her chair,
reaching for a glass of water to soothe her beating heart. Suddenly, Camila fell to the ground with a loud bang!
~Luke’s POV~
I looked through my window and I saw the press all over our company. Why did Mark and Chris come with the press? Did Mark
finally come clean? I scoffed at the thought of Mark Cooper coming clean. One thing I know is that Mark will never let the world
know just who he is, but why did they come here with the press? Whatever is going on does not seem to be a positive thing. I
avoiding bumping into Mark Cooper. I heard something fall in Camila’s office after seeing the two men leaving through my glass
office. So I dashed over to her office, only to discover Camila’s lifeless body strewn about the room. I hate hospitals, but I felt
compelled to help Camila regardless of my prior experience. I promptly pulled my phone out of my slacks and dialed 911. I
hurriedly carried Camila outside while yelling for help. An ambulance arrived as I sprinted towards the building’s exit. Chris and
Mark were still waiting outside with the press as the reporter began to air them. With a gurney in hand, the paramedics dashed
toward me. When I arrived at the back of the ambulance to join Camila, I noticed a figure approaching the vehicle. I looked up to.
see the figure and it was none other than Christopher Grayston. I couldn’t care less who he was, even if he was capable of
making me evaporate into thin air.
“Don’t you fucken come near her!” I screamed at the man who has the power to make my life a miserable nightmare, and he
reacted angrily.
Did I give a damn? No, I was unconcerned. He is a buffoon!
I was daring him to get too close to her. I intended to fling myself at him in a way a cat would leap onto the back of a lion. He
should go to hell.
*****
At the hospital, the doctor walked in while Chris and I were still engaging in eye-to-eye combat. I know that I am playing with fire,
but at the moment, I hate this man to the core. Camila finally opened her eyes after 3 hours of sleep. The doctor started
speaking.
“Mrs. Grayson fell...” Camila cut the man off.
“I’d like to be addressed as Miss Mendoza.” The doctor shifted his gaze to Chris, taken aback. However, the man simply gave
the doctor a nod.
What am I overlooking?
Her damaged limb was wrapped in white gauze, which was a little scary to see.
~Camila’s POV~
When I awoke, Luke and Chris were challenging each other with their gaze. I almost burst out laughing. It doesn’t make sense.
Where did Luke get the courage from? He did, however, appear to be hilariously challenging Chris.
“Mrs. Grayson fell...” I immediately became enraged and blurted out.
“I’d like to be addressed as Miss Mendoza.”
Chris appeared to be a little dissatisfied. What is he doing here in the first place? What difference does it make to him if I die?
“Is it painful?” He asked.
A very different tone of voice came from his question. He looked concerned. But why? I am no longer his wife. Why is he
worried, and what is he doing here? That voice was the voice that compelled me to react in an idiotic manner. It’s not as if I find
his idiotic voice appealing any longer. If anything, I don’t like him.
“Camille?” I exhaled a short puff of air and turned my face so that my gaze could meet his. I had an expressionless face. When I
heard him shout my name again, I found myself parting my lips in response.
“Camille?”
“Don’t call me that!”
His face was expressionless. I just started blinking while looking dead at him. Even after a quarrel, my name used to sound sexy
coming from his mouth, but today I feel nothing. I’m not sure this is worthwhile. I don’t even feel like talking to this dick. I stared at
him, and we exchanged stares for what felt like an eternity. He knelt and lifted my leg. His finger continues to delicately graze the
flesh surrounding my leg, nearly reaching my thigh. I made a conscious effort not to focus on what was happening to me. I fought
the sensation of his fingertips brushing over my thigh and seeping into my frigid skin.
Is he fucken doing this on purpose?
I wanted to say something, but I kept my gaze fixed on him and on what he was doing. To my sorrow, he was concentrating on
the leg and thigh, gently massaging my thigh. My lips parted unintentionally, and my eyes widened as his finger crept upward,
nearly to my core. As a tingling sensation penetrated the depths of my core, I held my breath.
What is it about this man that continues to confuse me? I was in excruciating pain and yet here I am, dripping wet for him. Why?
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