The Bullet Comments Called Me Stupid And Doomed Chapter 03

The Bullet Comments Called Me Stupid And Doomed Chapter 03

I flopped facedown on the bed and stewed. Sometime later, Julian appeared in the doorway, apron still on.

“Time to eat.”

Three words. Ice cold. They landed like a slap. The old me would’ve thrown it right back at him — attitude for attitude.

But I couldn’t afford to push him any further. I dragged myself out of bed. I’d never cooked a meal in my life.

After the bankruptcy, Julian had to let the housekeeper go. I tried fending for myself in the kitchen, but I was hopeless — everything I touched turned into a disaster scene, unless it came with microwave directions.

Julian had been raised by his grandfather after losing his parents young, so he knew his way around a kitchen — around the whole apartment, really. Whenever he was home, he cooked.

He’d made all my favorites — three dishes, every single one something I loved. The ache came back without warning, and before I knew it, I was tearing up again. Pathetic.

I turned away, swiped at my face with the back of my hand, and shoved food into my mouth before he could notice. None of it tasted like anything. My mood had killed my appetite.

Halfway through, my stomach turned. I managed half a bowl before setting down my fork.

“I’m done.”

Julian set down his fork, frowning. His face gave away nothing. “I’m leaving for a business trip. Just a few days. While I’m gone, think about what you want to do about the divorce.”

My nails bit into my palms. I swallowed the scream building in my throat. “Where? How long?”

“Silverton. I’ll be back by the weekend at the latest.”

I pushed back from the table. “I already told you — I’m not getting a divorce!”

Julian’s gaze flicked to me, then dropped. “Suit yourself.”

Suit myself? I stomped back to the bedroom so hard the floorboards rattled.

Not long after, he came in to pack. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I rolled over, pulled the covers up, and cried into the dark.

He was done in record time. The suitcase wheels scraped across the floor, and then — nothing. Not a word. Just the sound of the front door closing.

The second he was gone, I stopped holding back. It started quiet and built from there, louder and uglier, until I was sobbing my lungs out into the empty apartment.

[Crybaby much? That’s literally all she knows how to do. She’s going to cry away everything she has left!]

[This doomed ex-wife is completely useless. All she does is cry.]

[She’s literally written as a pretty airhead. What did you expect?]

[If she weren’t so useless, the FL wouldn’t have such an easy time stealing her man. The more pathetic she is, the better for the plot lol.]

[That makes sense, haha!]