Chapter 2Control and Devotion

For the next week, my behavior was entirely different.

When he worked late, I didn't spam his phone. I simply sent a single text before bed: Don't work too hard.

When he went out to a lounge with his friends, I didn't ask who was there, nor did I demand photos of the table.

Meanwhile, Isla posted photos of him daily on her social media: the side of his face while he worked, his hand holding a document, each caption more suggestive than the last. I pretended not to see any of it.

The floating comments kept insisting I was just gathering strength for a massive explosion, waiting for my breaking point.

But in reality, I was quietly meeting with a lawyer to draft a divorce agreement.

I had already decided on the terms. I didn't want a single penny of the Sinclair estate. I would only keep the small apartment I owned before our marriage. Once we split, he could date Isla, marry her, or do whatever he pleased. No one would smother him ever again.

On Friday evening, he texted to say he was meeting clients at a private club.

I replied with a simple Okay and curled up on the sofa to watch a reality show. Around ten, my phone rang. It was an employee from the club, saying Mr. Sinclair had had too much to drink and asking if they should arrange a ride.

Before I could answer that I would drive over myself, Isla's voice cut through the background of the call.

"No need to bother Mrs. Sinclair. I'm heading that way anyway. I'll take him home."

I paused for a second, then smiled into the receiver. "Thank you for the help, then."

I hung up, and the screen instantly filled with rapid-fire comments.

[Oh my god! The female lead is bringing him home! The psycho wife is going to lose her absolute mind!]

[Last time Isla just brushed past him, Evelyn slapped her. This time she's going to claw her face off!]

[Let her rage! Once she causes a scene, Asher will kick her out of the house for good!]

I took a deep breath, went to the kitchen, and prepared a warm glass of honey water, waiting calmly for them to arrive.

Around eleven, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door to find Isla holding Asher up, her hair slightly messy, her face flushed.

When she saw me, she spoke in a sweet, soft voice. "Mrs. Sinclair, he drank quite a bit tonight. He kept calling your name on the ride over."

Normally, I would have slapped her for letting him lean on her like that.

But instead, I gently took Asher from her, retrieved his coat, and handed her the warm honey water.

"Thank you so much for bringing him back safely. It's late, so please drive carefully."

Isla's sweet smile completely froze. She clearly hadn't expected this reaction. Before she could say another word, I offered a polite nod and shut the door.

I helped Asher onto the sofa and poured him a glass of water. "Drink some water. You smell like a distillery. Go take a shower."

The moment the words left my mouth, I worried I sounded too controlling again. I quickly corrected myself.

"Or don't. It's up to you. Do whatever you want."

As I turned to walk away, my wrist was suddenly grabbed in a tight, firm grip.

He stared at me with bloodshot eyes, his voice incredibly hoarse. "You're not mad?"

I blinked. "Why would I be mad?"

"Isla brought me home. She was leaning all over me. You're not angry at all?" He demanded, his grip tightening. "Before, if she even handed me a file, you'd give me the cold shoulder for three days."

My heart hammered against my ribs, and I quickly pulled my hand out of his grasp.

"I was immature back then. She's your employee, there's no reason for me to get upset over work."

I didn't dare look at his expression as I quickly made my way toward the study. He had to be completely exhausted by my past behavior. If I brought up the divorce now, he would surely agree.

I pulled the draft agreement from the desk drawer just as the study door pushed open.

Asher had followed me. He stood in the doorway, watching me.

I looked up at him, forcing a gentle smile as I slid the papers across the desk. "Asher, since you're here, take a look at this. I've drafted a divorce agreement."

"I only want my old apartment. Everything else is yours."

"From now on, you're entirely free. You can be with whoever you want, and no one will ever check up on you again."

The moment the words left my mouth, Asher's face darkened completely. He gritted his teeth, his voice dripping with anger.

"Do you really think I want freedom? Evelyn, I want you!"

"What kind of game are you playing lately?"

"You stop checking on me, and now you want a divorce? Tell me the truth: is there someone else?"