After the Divorce: Crushed on My Lawyer Ex-wife

#150 “Why don’t We Try Kyle Vitali?

When Evelyn stepped into Sophia’s apartment, the soft hum of city life outside seemed a world away from the storm brewing within her. Clutched in her hand was a laptop, a tool she intended to use to unravel the mystery that had cast a shadow over her relationship.

“It won’t happen like that,” Evelyn spat out angrily, her greeting replaced by frustration. “He’s hiding something from me.”

Sophia, surprised by the abrupt shift in the atmosphere, closed the door behind them. “Wow, you went from sad to angry fast,” she remarked, observing Evelyn’s tense demeanor.

Evelyn settled onto the sofa, her eyes fixed on the laptop screen. “I started following this story. I didn’t find anything interesting about Kyle Vennillia. That’s because there is no KYLE VENNILLIA,” she muttered, frustration evident in her voice.

“What does this mean?” Sophia, now confused, approached the computer.

“His name appears only under the articles he wrote, but before that, there was no one with that name. There’s no F****k profile, it’s not in the directories, nothing,” Evelyn explained, her tone a mix of confusion and determination.

“Maybe he didn’t live here,” Sophia suggested cautiously. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Something with vodka because I’m playing detective tonight. I’m sick of him playing me. If he won’t tell me who he is, I’ll find out in another way.”

“Evelyn, honey, why don’t you just rest?”

He’s lying to me. I know he loves me, Sophia, but something is stopping him from being with me, and I want to know what it is,” Evelyn declared,

you

I just can’t explain it

determined glint in her friend’s eyes. ”

come over here to dig up the

the digital realm, seeking answers to the enigma

potent cocktail, sensing that this investigation was going to require more than just a clear mind. As she concocted the

glasses in hand, Sophia handed one to Evelyn. “Here’s to solving the mystery of Kyle Vennillia, “she declared, raising her glass in a

of the vodka provided a brief distraction

they settled back on the sofa, side by

odd. “Look, here’s an article about a heroic journalist named Kyle Vennillia who exposed corruption in the

” That is strange. How can someone

I need to know who he was before

searching for any breadcrumbs that could lead them to Kyle’s past. As they dug deeper, the clock ticked

and curiosity, muttered, “He can’t just erase his

helping you, but I just don’t understand, why after he asked you not to do it, you keep looking

contemplating the complexity of relationships. “I just wish he’d be honest with me. I