My Husband Locked Me Out of Our Home for Another Woman Chapter 10

My Husband Locked Me Out of Our Home for Another Woman Chapter 10

After I arrived in Port Avery for the project, I tnoved into a corporate apartment.

It was a modest two-bedroom layout.

My own bed occupied the master bedroom, my desk sat neatly against the window, and the refrigerator was

stocked precisely with what I wanted: coffee beans, Greek yogurt, hot sauce, and whole milk.

There were no frantic post-it notes, no prescription pill organizers, and no warning signs taped to the

doors.

On the day of the project kickoff meeting, Nolan appeared in the hotel lobby.

He was holding a folder and a ring box.

I came downstairs with my coworkers.

He did not dare step forward and block us.

The meeting lasted three hours.

When it ended, he was still there.

I walked over with my laptop bag.

“What is it?”

He handed me the folder.

“A new home proposal. The condo will be under your name. The master bedroom will be designed entirely

around your preferences.”

I did not take it.

He opened the ring box.

“We can redo the wedding too. Whatever you like, we’ll do it your way.”

I looked toward the front desk.

“Please register this man as a visitor. He is not allowed upstairs.”

Nolan’s face froze.

“Elena, I’m not here to cause trouble.”

“Then you can be handled as a visitor.”

He lowered his voice.

“I’ve cut things off with Sienna completely.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

He said, “We had six years. It shouldn’t end like this.”

I took out my phone.

“I already calculated it. The money is settled. I don’t want the rest.”

His eyes reddened.

“Don’t be this cruel.”

I lifted my eyes.

“When you made me sleep on’the couch while I was doubled over in pain, did you stop to ask if *that* was

heartless?”

He gritted his teeth.

“I was blind back then, I lost my mind…”

“You woke up too late.”

He pushed the ring box toward me.

“Give me one more chance.”

I took half a step back.

“Don’t interfere with my work.”

A coworker passed by.

Nolan gripped the ring box tighter.

“Elena, you won’t even talk to me privately now?”

“I have nothing private to discuss with you.”

His voice trembled.

“Do you hate me?”

I glanced toward the conference room.

“I’m busy.”

He froze.

The receptionist picked up the visitor log.

“Sir, please show your ID. Visitors can only remain in the lobby seating area.

Nolan looked at me.

“You’re really going to treat me like this?”

Ishifted my laptop bag to my other hand.

“You’re not an owner, not family, and not a project partner. What are you?”

He had no answer.

That night, the front desk/called my room.

“Ms. Hart, Mr. Whitmore dropped off stomach medicine and a heating pad.”

“Return them unopened.”

“He said you might need them.”

“Tell him I can buy my own.”

Ten minutes later, Claire sent me a screenshot.

She had sent Nolan the timeline.

The night of my stomach attack. The wedding seating changes. The lien release. The sale. The handover. The

out-of-state assignment.

The final line read:

[She did not leave all at once. You pushed her out, day by day.)

Nolan did not message me again.

The next day, the on-site project meeting continued.

I set my phone to silent.

He had finally chased me all the way to my new city.

But he did not even deserve to know my apartment number.