Dear Ex, Try Again When you are Rich

el's

fingers trace around the rim of the untouched coffee cup in front of me, and I find myself glancing at the clock

I shouldn't have com

breath catching in my throat. Noah could be home by

am, and yet the thought brings no comfort. I know how fast things

y seems to be a second closer to some kind of disaster, and yet I just can't make go

g stride, broad shoulders, eyes that once protected me

ight of me. It has been such a long time, but the way he looks at me. It is as if everything remains sta

n his lips taking me back to a time when l

from me. My heart's running fast. Don't think abo

uddenly breathless and not at all as calm as

rough the dimness. There is a bitter tinge in his voice but also a de

dn't. How would he? He has no idea

ave me like that?" Soft-spoken his voice may be, but it chafes against the hurt in t

for years. "I." My voice breaks as I dig my fingers more tightly into my cup of coffee. "It wasn't about y

"Noah? That's why you married him?" His voice is incr

verything. My dad owed him, and he promised to pay it,

soft now, and yet the weight of his question

g anxiety inside me. At what cost? It's a question I have asked myself

sper, "I thought maybe Noah would care for me, that he'd be the man he

s tangible, crushing. I can feel his gaze on me, scrutinizing me, seekin

voice barely heard. "Is there?

eaming at me to go, to run back to the life I've chosen. But my heart-my heart doesn't want to

ay, "I don't know if

r stopped caring about you. If there's any part of you that st

e that this is my reality life free from Noah, free from the burden of everything I've

n with a brutal force.

"I can't," I whisper. "I can't risk it. Noah. He'll kno

kin between his eyebrows. "Rachel, you deserve so much

I do want that. I have always wanted that. But my life choices

wn in the debt, I am scared Noah would take action we

ace. "I understand, I know Mr. Noah is much better, but

everything, that we can go back to the way things wer

ock again. Panic rushes through me. "Noah w

cern. "Rachel, please. Don't

st. "I don't have a choice." My voice breaks, and

tep back. "Please, Rachel," he says, his voice pleading.

embling beneath me. I step out of the cafe and the conversatio

ge from my hu

e are

the café, to the life I have just wa