I Saw Comments Saying I Would Die Alone After the Fourth Divorce Chapter 09

I Saw Comments Saying I Would Die Alone After the Fourth Divorce Chapter 09

Simon worked like a machine. He cut through the city’s red tape like it was nothing. Before I knew it, the shop was open, branded, and already being promoted – all without me touching the back

end.

I’d planned to hustle for my first clients, but I didn’t need to. Mrs. Miller, Mrs. Davis, and Mrs.

Bennett came to me – walked right into the shop, sampled a few things, and booked full dessert tables for their lavish baby showers on the spot.

My hands were shaking when the first deposit hit my account.

I’d married Julian straight out of college and spent every year since then as a trophy wife who had never earned a paycheck of my own.

Now I finally got it – the rush of earning my own money. No wonder Julian buried himself in work

and never complained.

–

The turnaround was brutal – my first major order had to be delivered by the weekend. I rallied my

team and we got to work.

I hadn’t planned on hiring anyone – I figured I’d handle everything solo. Then Simon showed up on

opening day with two experienced sous chefs in tow, no warning, no discussion.

–

I nearly turned them away on the spot. The shop was brand new — every dollar was accounted for. I

couldn’t afford two extra salaries.

Simon told me Julian had put them on the company payroll, then vanished before I could get a word

The chefs turned out to be genuinely talented, so I let it slide.

Looking back, thank God I kept them. There’s no way I could’ve handled orders this size on my own.

Two weeks in, the word had spread. My desserts started showing up at every high-society dinner

party in the city, and between the designs and the flavors, the shop exploded. Clients kept coming – referral after referral, every one of them eager.

Even with a limited schedule, I was slammed. Most nights I dragged myself through the front door and fell asleep the second my head touched the pillow.

I didn’t have the bandwidth to think about Julian, or Audrey, or any of it.

Julian started making dinner reservations – nice places, date-night places. I turned him down every time. Dinner dates couldn’t compete with the high of earning my own money.

After one too many rejections, Julian tried a different angle.

“You’ve been talking about the Bahamas for months – our anniversary’s coming up. Want me to book it for next week?”

I missed whatever was simmering beneath his voice. I just smiled tiredly.

“That was before. I’m over it now. Don’t worry about it – you’ve got your stuff, I’ve got mine. I’m swamped anyway.”

I didn’t catch the look on his face. I’d already rolled over, halfway to sleep. Tomorrow was another mountain of orders. I needed every hour of rest I could get.

The next morning I was elbow-deep in cake batter.

That’s when she walked in.