After She She Stopped Loving Him

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Charles Sinclair was cheating.

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Yolanda Grant had been married to him for two years and had never seen him lose control in public.

It was late at night, and Charles was holding a girl in his arms. They tangled recklessly in a dark, empty alley.

The girl was skinny, like a small flower growing out of the mud. She wrapped her legs around Charles’s waist and leaned on his shoulder, sobbing.

Yolanda sat in her car and leaned back slightly.

Half an hour earlier, when someone sent her this address, she thought it was a mistake.

It was not far from the home she shared with Charles. She had thought that if Charles ever cheated, he would at least book a clean presidential suite.

Charles was a powerful businessman. His family had been wealthy and respected for three generations. He had always been strict about food, clothes, and taste.

Yolanda never imagined he would entangle himself with another woman in such a dirty place. The stained floor and mossy walls seemed to shame his name.

‘He loved her this much?‘ She found it ridiculous. “Then what does that make me, his wife in name only?‘

She didn’t wait for them to finish, nor did she go up to catch them. It wasn’t worth the scene.

Two years ago, when she married Charles, he told her he would never love her. He already loved someone else.

had been her choice to marry him anyway, even giving up her rising

her devotion.

years, she took care of him. She knew about his stomach problems, so she cooked every meal with

never let anyone else handle

treasured so carefully would drop

if she had been slapped

11:28 Wed, Sep 10

Chapter 1

still had things to do. This

home. The headlights swept past,

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the villa district where their home stood. A strange unease came over

in his arms begged, but he had already sobered up, slowly straightening his

“Charles?” she whispered, confused.

said. “The company has big projects coming up. I

Charles,” she

his hand and patted her head. Her pitiful look reminded him

*****

of the bathroom when she saw the bedroom door pushed open

his arm and raised a brow. His face was sharply handsome, almost aggressive, with a high nose and deep–set eyes. The narrow lift at the end of his eyes gave him a distant,

smear of pink lip gloss left by his mistress. Yolanda had never liked lip gloss–she always thought it sticky on

Charles seemed to like it

she dried her hair, Yolanda

waist and asked, “When did

“This afternoon,” Yolanda said.

let out a small

window’s reflection, she saw him toss aside

shirt was dirty, and he only said casually, “I was out

I