Broken Marriage of Convenience

ke long enough to sit on the couch. He hated how far the house was from the office. Before marrying Helena Morrison, he lived in a bachelor pad just two minutes away from h

ower to shake off the lingering grogginess, he headed to the bathroom. The hot water was refreshing, washing away the fat

and Sergey was particularly intrigued by the mention of a French one. He smiled to himself, already imagining the fu

f the refrigerator. As he passed the kitchen, he noticed Helena standing by the counter, her curvy body wrapped in oversized paj

ep his voice neutral. Helena looked up at him, her eyes reddish and puff

d, her voice barely above a whisper. She picked up the

her tone sent a chill down his spine. He shrugged it off, convincing himself it was just the remnants

ual routine. But Helena's words kept echoing in his mind, nagging at the back of his thoughts. Finally,

r, icy blue eyes, and tall, lean body had always drawn attention, sometimes more than he cared for. There were times when he felt like no woman wanted t

nodded at him as he slid into the back seat, feeling the familiar hum of the engine as the

a medical appointment this morning," he said, his eyes fixed on the road. "She's been acting a bit strange si

is interest piqued and a bit of irritatio

rtable. "She seemed... withdrawn. Los

on personal matters unless he found something ge

he was quie

so accustomed to her presence in the background of his life that he rarely gave her health much

nd," he sa

at him in the rea

ed. "I need to talk to her f

ouse. Sergey sat back, his mind racing. He thought about Helena's recent behavior, her distan

lked quickly to the door, determination in his stride. He needed to talk to Helena, to figure out what was hap

n his mind, making him uneasy. He finally found her in a corner of the second living room, sitting motionless on a

She didn't respond. He stepped closer and called her n

arky remark. "You really scared

. Then, a strange smile spread across her face, and she spoke softly,

ding to the contract he had signed with her father. The agreement was filled with stipulations, trapping him

lena," he said, his voice

hardness in her eyes. "I can," she said

mistresses discreet, believing it was an unspoken understanding between them. He was a healthy 35-year-old

disheveled, but there was a steely resolve in her gaze that Sergey hadn't seen before. "I'm tire

had always been a business transaction. "Helena, you've filled your head with fantasies. This was always a f

ll I had. I thought maybe, just maybe, we could find something r

ion was. "Think about all the people who were working for your f

ords, but then shook her head. "None of those

This was a woman who had reached her breaking point, and he didn't know how to handle it. "Helena, listen," h

thing to work out, Sergey. I'm done with this cha

means to an end, a tool to secure his financial future and social standing. But now, faced with her resolute stance

s way," he admitted, feeling a pang of g

ou thought it was acceptable to treat me like a d

his own desires, that he had completely neglected the woman he had married. He had igno

as he spoke them. "I know I've been a terrible husband, but we c

ergey. I don't need your pity or your belated attempts at being a good person

cle. But more than that, he was trapped by his own guilt and the realisation of how badly he had treated her, she extended her hand

eaving his. "I want a divorce, and I want y

n in her eyes, the unwavering resolve that told him she was

replied, he

ood there, watching her retreating form, knowing that things wo

ling of dread that had settled over him. For the first time, h

rty. He stared at the phone for a moment, then silenced it. He couldn't think about partying