Soren’s frown deepened, lines creasing his brow.
He’d assumed Evangeline was just venting, never imagining she’d actually start packing her things to leave.
A surge of irritation rose in his chest. “Evangeline, are you done with this nonsense?”
“Nonsense?” Evangeline echoed, bewildered by his anger and his accusation. What nonsense had she made?
She glanced at Poppy, who had hurried over, and her voice turned sharp. “What’s so wrong with me leaving? Or do you expect the three of us to live here together?”
It was a reminder–a pointed one–that she was willing to step aside, to give Soren and Poppy time alone.
She thought he’d understand, but Soren just looked at her like she was speaking another language. “It’s only for a while. Why not?”
Poppy’s apartment was under renovation, and he was merely helping her out temporarily.
Was she really jealous over something so trivial?
They were married, after all. Shouldn’t she see how unreasonable this jealousy was?
Evangeline hadn’t expected that answer
Evangeline hadn’t expected that answer and stood there, momentarily at a loss.
So, he actually enjoyed having both women under the same roof?
She let out a bitter laugh. “Sorry, maybe you’re used to it, but I find it a little too
crowded.”
With that, Evangeline brushed past him and headed downstairs.
Soren was left in a fog, sensing there was more in her words than she let on. “Evangeline, what’s that supposed to mean? Say it clearly!”
He strode after her, but Poppy quickly caught his arm.
“Let her go, Soren,” she said softly. “Evangeline’s just upset right now. Give her some space to cool off.”
Upset? If anything, Soren felt even more annoyed.
22:01
They were married what more did she want from him? Did she really think threatening to walk out would scare him?
His gaze swept the nearby bedroom and, with a hard set to his jaw, he strode inside.
Nothing much had changed.
Her clothes still filled the closet. Jewelry was scattered across the vanity, including the set he’d given her last year–her favorite.
Just as he’d suspected.
She was playing hard to get. Again.
She wanted to leave? Fine. Then don’t bother coming back.
“Macy,” Soren called coldly, “from now on, I don’t want Evangeline setting foot in
this house. Not once.”
“Soren, don’t do this,” Poppy pleaded, her voice urgent. “No matter how you feel about her, you’re married. Couples argue, but you can’t go this far.”
Soren gave a harsh, humorless laugh. “Married? Did she act like we were married just now? Enough, my mind’s made up.”
She wanted to throw a tantrum–let her deal with the consequences.
Dragging her suitcase behind her, Evangeline left the house. She glanced back, half–expecting Soren to come running after her, but of course, he listened to Poppy instead.
She was used to it by now.
No matter how angry Soren got, Poppy only had to say a few words and he’d calm right down.
At least this way, she didn’t have to pretend anymore.
After driving away, Evangeline headed to a nearby real estate office to look for a cheap apartment.
The agent eyed her up and down, taking in her five–figure designer dress, Cartier bracelet, and the Chanel/ suitcase trailing behind her. He flashed a bright, eager smile.
“Ma’am, the cheapest places are in the older neighborhoods–poor soundproofing, run–down interiors. I’d really suggest stretching your budget a little. Renting’s for
the landlord, but living well is for yourself.”
He slid a glossy photo across the table–an apartment that was brighter roomie and far better decorated. “This one’s still reasonably priced, and I’m sure it suits someone like you.”
Evangeline immediately understood what he was implying.
3
