The Billionaire's Ex-Wife

No

EVERYBODY SAY NOOO... WE ROLL ;)

Guys I'm rly sorry for fucking this whole story up by making Alison a culprit too. I'm a terrible writer, godamn it I know. Again I'm really sorry.

Hope you enjoy the rest.

Alison's POV.

To say I wasn't guilty was an understatement.

I couldn't look Blake in the eye whenever I saw him, Jacob's words a constant reminder of how terribly I had tossed the marriage up, in my mind.

Elizabeth however, seemed to take a different turn in the problem, claiming that even if I had continued to date someone else throughout the period of our relationship, Blake's actions were completely unacceptable.

"I mean the guy called you some hella low words! I really don't see why you're beating yourself up over this. He did worse!"

My mind was a complete and utter mess.

Apologising to Blake was already drawn out.

The idea was ridiculous as it sounded, for I could still not wrap my mind around the image of uttering two simple words to a man who deserved nothing but displeasure.

Elizabeth was right when she had snapped at me for erasing my pride for the sake of creating the slightest of harmony between the two of us.

Apologising to Blake meant admitting I was wrong. Meant being in his absolute will for the silent seconds of my speech.

Vulnerability.

The emotion of collapsing to someone's very needs. It was all too much. The air pressing against me and the heat creeping up my body.

So for the moment I had decided to let any ideas of renewing any sort of relationship, slip down the drain and disappear from sight.

But of course, Blake Ryder wasn't one to give up so easily.

He was a stubborn man.

Something I am not sure whether I admired or hated.

So that very Friday afternoon, when the staff had began their dreary drive home and the cleaners had left the restaurant gleaming, I found myself left in the midst of the cavernous kitchens.

Irritation irked at my gut, the crumbled, pink paper in my hands falling to the floor as I run an aggravated hand through my hair, stomping my foot.

Stay. Please.

The familiar writing curls neatly over the small note, smiling innocently up at me from the ground.

I'm not certain why I had decided to abide to his wishes, my mind falling to the command of my heart, desperation plucking at the frayed strings.

Minutes later, a soft knock brushes against the kitchen doors.

I glance up from my sprawled position on the kitchen counter top, phone held lazily in one hand and a leg dangling in the air.

There is a quiet creak as the door is opened, as I scramble into an appropriate position upright on the floor.

Anxiety pumps through my veins as I await the person to reveal themselves.

"Hey."Elizabeth greets with a toothy grin.

Confusion hits me and I throw her a questioning look.