My Husband Realized He Loved Me After I Stopped Loving Him Chapter 06

My Husband Realized He Loved Me After I Stopped Loving Him Chapter 06

Grant hadn’t expected it, but the search would 

keep him abroad for an entire year. 

The first three months, he was furious. 

Every call from his people came back the same: 

no progress. 

He lost his temper, smashed nearly everything in 

the hotel room to pieces. 

“Keep looking.” 

He gritted the words out around a cigarette, voice low and dangerous. 

“She wants a divorce? Just like that? Did I agree to 

this?” 

That’s what he told himself. He didn’t believe I’d 

really leave. He refused to believe I’d really give 

him up. 

All these years–my obsessive possessiveness, 

my hysteria, mynear–pathological dependence on 

him–all of it had always been aimed at him. 

He knew better than anyone that I couldn’t leave 

him. 

Three months in, the anger faded, replaced by a 

panic that seemed to seep out of his bones. 

His hotel desk filled up with empty cigarette 

packs. He couldn’t stop picking at the old scars on 

his arm until they bled. 

That’s when it hit him. 

He and she really were the same kind of person. 

Even the way they came apart in a panic was 

identical. 

He stopped sleeping. He’d toss and turn all night, then start replaying old voice memos she’d sent 

him. 

“Grant, you went to see her again, didn’t you?” 

“Don’t believe I’ll kill myself? Don’t believe I’ll go kill her right now?!” 

He listened to them one after another, and slowly something struck him as wrong. 

In every message–no matter how vicious she sounded–she was crying. 

By the time he finished, he pressed the phone to 

his face and didn’t move for a long time. 

A much more terrifying thought had started forming. 

What if… Vivian was really done with him? 

The instant that thought surfaced, he shoved it out of his mind almost by reflex. 

Impossible. 

Even if Vivian didn’t want to live, she’d stay alive for him. There was no way she didn’t want him. 

“Sir.” His assistant’s voice broke through his daze. “Ms. Sinclair called again. She wants to see you.” 

Grant didn’t even turn around. “Tell her I’m busy.” 

The assistant froze. 

A full year now, and Grant had stopped even 

bothering to make up excuses to turn Chloe down. 

“And,” Grant added, tugging at his lip, “tell her I 

already know the child isn’t mine. She knows what 

to do about it.” 

“And make sure she’s paid whatever’s owed. After 

that, don’t let her call me again.” 

The assistant nodded and left. The room went 

quiet again. 

Grant sat by the window, staring blankly at the sky. 

This was his twelfth month abroad. 

A full year. 

His people had searched from Europe to North. 

America, from North America to the southern 

hemisphere. 

But Vivian had vanished like she’d never existed- 

not even a shadow left behind. 

Grant stood, walked to the window. 

A year, and he still couldn’t find her. 

He closed his eyes. One thought, and only one, 

remained. 

Just be alive. 

As long as she’s alive. 

Even if she never wanted him again. Even if he 

never saw her for the rest of his life. As long as 

she was safe, he’d take it. He’d take anything. 

“Vivian… just tell me if you’re alive or dead.” 

“Stop torturing me.”