how to quit. It's a bright and early morning and he's already waiting outside the door for me. I rolled out of bed ten minutes ago, freshened up and threw on a dress to go for a quick grocery run. Whereas my fake husband stands in front of me looking immaculate as ever. He's dressed in a navy button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled back, dark slacks and matching aviators to conceal the sleepless night he's had. He's also holding a bottle of gin.

"What do you want," It's a threat.

He ignores it and pushes the bottle of gin towards me. I narrow my eyes at him in speculation. Is this a peace offering? Does he think our situation-ship can be fixed with a bottle of gin? "You broke yours last night. This one tastes better than the one you had last night." He flashes me a bright smile. My heart erupts and I damp out the damning feeling at all costs.

It's only 10 AM and he's offering me a whole bottle of booze. It's never too early to get drunk and I'm not the type of miss out on free alcohol, so I take it from him. Without a thanks. I place it near the shoe rack and shut the door behind me.

I push past him and start walking away. I don't need him anywhere near me. And if he expected us to talk again after last night, then I hope he enjoys the disappointment. "I'm leaving for London tonight."

"Good," I state over my shoulder and shrug forward.

"I just thought I'd let you know," he adds.

"Fantastic." I take another step. There's an invisible string pulling me back towards him. "I'm getting late for my grocery run." It's a pathetic excuse. He can just follow after me but he doesn't.

He pauses for a beat then he states, "Come back with me, Bells,"

"Can't do that."

"Why not?"

Something inside of snaps and crackles - the sharp anger simply rolls out. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know I supposed to drop everything and leave because Dimitri Asterio has told me to do so. I have a job, children to teach and bills to pay."

Although I can't see his eyes that are hidden behind his aviators, I know he's judging me heavily. He's scrutinising me top to bottom with the setting of his lips into a thin line. "You didn't think twice about leaving London that night."

It would be so much easier if I hated Dimitri. If he had yellow teeth, a hairy more and dirt underneath his fingertips. Yet he doesn't. He's perfect as ever and so finely dressed, I resent him more than yesterday. What I hate more is the fact he's being so condescending and inconsiderate. The last thing I need this morning is his taunting. I stare at him, straight on. You want a fight, let's fight then.

"You didn't think twice about screaming at me that night. Fine, I lost the NDA but you had absolutely no right to treat me in that manner." I study him and take a hard gulp, the column of his neck denting with the process. He sighs, looks visibly comfortable then shifts his aviators off his face.

"Baby, c'mon. We've both made some mistakes and it's time we move on from them. There's a lot going on in London right now and it would help if you came back." His tender, affectionate tone makes everything so much worse.

Wow. I just feel like I've been slapped across the face. Here he is again, demanding me to come back. Just so I can help him another ruse of his.

"You want me to come back so I can help?" My voice betrays me - the tone comes out slacked and high pitched. No matter how many times I burn sage and cleanse myself and my space – Dimitri will be back.

Stormy azure blue burns into hazel – he's a shard of his former self and it's not hard to decipher. The expensive cologne, the tailored shirt and Rolex on his wrist does nothing to cover it. He was wearing his aviators to cover his sleepless night and it seems after me, Dimitri's had many sleepless nights. You and I both, love.

He pinches his eyes shut in regret, "No, Bells – that's not what I meant. Things have been happening and Nav-" he cuts off with the bite of his lips and stops himself from spilling out too quickly. He takes a deep sigh, I watch his chest rise and fall as he shifts a hand through his tousled brown hair "London's hellish. So hellish."

"Trust me, I know." He wasn't the one who was chased down the street by paparazzi. He wasn't the one endured the criticism. My heart wretches to black.

He takes a step towards me, "I know I can't convince you to come back. But I'm trying so hear me out."

I look at the opening down the narrow pathway. I take a left, walk for ten minutes and then go right to the local grocery store. "I'm getting really late." Take the hint.

"What do you want?" He asks quite plainly. No bullshit, just tell me.

"The divorce papers, please." Silence stretches between us for six lifetimes.

His face strikes with so much pain. I resent myself a little more but in the back of my mind, this started with him and this too, will end with him. "Is that what you really want?" His baritone is on the edge of grief. My stomach tumbles and the ground beneath me doesn't exist currently.

With an inhale, I reply, "Yes,"

If Dimitri's breaking, he doesn't show it. He's an amazing actor and Hollywood is calling his damn name. He's in line for three Oscars for the performance he's putting on. He pushes his aviators back on and just like I've been stopped from reading his eyes. God, I've fallen in love with those eyes and that face and the way his lips curve into a smile. All of him, every damming inch.

He fixes his throat and just like he's resumed the role of the professional CEO he's known for, "It was a pleasure doing business with you, Isabella. The divorce papers will be with you in two weeks." is the last thing I hear.

Good, I think. How chivalrous of him. I don't turn over my shoulder to glance at him nor do I see Dimitri again and I avoid the British media at all cost. I don't need to see their exuberant and concocted headlines.

That every evening, Ana invites me upstairs for wine. Because I'm lonely and have no other female relationships in my life right now, I take her offer and join her upstairs at 7 PM on the dot.

She narrates me another one of her stories. She slowly blows out the remaining cigarette smoke into the air, and taps her cigarette into the ashtray. I study the wispy smoke curl and fade into nothing "Did that male friend of yours leave?"

I blink. Dimitri? "Yes, he's gone."

"Did he stay for the night?" She inquires with a raise of her eyebrow.

"No, only for a few hours." It's quite clear what was going on for the duration of those few hours. She obviously heard some, if not all. Despite that, Ana never comments on it.

She stares at me long and hard for a few seconds before she casually comments. "He was wearing a wedding ring." I'm suddenly growing aware of my own hand and the empty weight on it. I've only got a faint blue line instead of a ring. I ignore the cloying feeling growing in my lungs and take a leisurely sip

"I hope you're not a home wrecker, Evangelía."

Unable to control myself, I roar at the absurdity of her statement. Tears are pricking my eyes and I'm wheezing like a lunatic. I can't be a homewrecker to my own house. Ana simply blinks at me confused, she's a deer in headlights. Before I can even compose myself, I begin crying.

Ana's expression dies out and she rushes to my side to comfort me. The problem is there's nothing she can do or say to make the situation better.

A week pathetically drifts by. I'm lying on the Persian rug - the colour a muted crimson. It's quite pathetic because there was a similar one in Dimitri's penthouse and him I would lay on it often. In the background, a news anchor runs through the headlines for updates on London. I can't bring myself to concentrate because my head is being pulled in different directions.

I decide enough is enough and then it off. I'm on all fours when the door bells rings followed by a vibrant rattle.

My eyes swing to the clock. 5:32 PM on a Saturday. I grow confused but slowly stalk towards the door. When I finally build enough courage to open it. All the air in my lungs fade.

Blue eyes, a tailored suit and grey hair stare back at me. "Isabella? Can we talk?" asks Grandpa Asterio. I should close the door on his face but instead, I invite him inside.