CHAPTER One Hundred and Twelve.
Mirabelle’s POV.
The walls of our home have never felt so cold. Every corner of this house echoed with Noah’s last words.
“Let’s get a divorce, Mirabelle.”
Including the fact that he called my full name. That fact alone almost made me go mad.
I heard those words echoing on repeat in my head like a fucking broken record.
No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t stop replaying the pain etched on his face when he said it. He wasn’t shouting, but his tone had carried a finality that left me hollow.
For seven days, we’d been playing this elaborate charade for the kids, Noah had moved into the guestroom the same night, we still smiled at breakfast, still shared mundane conversations about school runs and the kids activities. But it was all smoke and mirrors. When they weren’t looking, we barely spoke a word to each other and when it was the nighttime, we pretended to go the same room when in reality, once we noticed that the children and grandpa Ed were asleep, he would leave for the guest room.
There had been many nights that I had convinced him to stay over, that there was nothing bad in sleeping in the same bed with me, but it hasn’t made a difference because he would still go back at the end of the day to the guestroom.
It was killing me.
This morning, I couldn’t even muster the strength to go to work, I’d woken up with a splitting headache, my body aching with the weight of regret.
The thought of sitting through meetings, pretending to be okay felt impossible, I called in sick and my personal assistant knew not to ask too many questions.
Maybe she could sense it in my voice. Everyone could apparently, the kids and grandpa Ed has been asking me if I’m okay since that conversation and I’ve been lying through my teeth each day. Telling them I was alright.
Including my best friend, Simone.
She called me earlier, asking how I was, and I could barely manage a coherent response. Her voice had been warm, concerned and knowing Simone, she wouldn’t let it slide.
About an hour later, the sound of knocking on my front door startled me out of my trance.
I already figured out who it was since she was the only one that knocked when there was a doorbell on the wall that she could press.
“Mirabelle open up.” she called, her voice firm but soft.
I opened the door, and found her standing there, dressed in her usual effortlessly chic outfit. Her brows furrowed as she took in my disheveled appearance.
“Child, you look like you haven’t slept in days.” she said stepping in without an invitation. Typical Simone and her black cute ass to the rescue.
“What’s going on?”
“Simone I’m fine, I just…..”
“Don’t even try it.” She cut me off, setting her purse down on the couch. “You sounded like a ghost on the phone, spill it now.”
I sighed, collapsing onto the loveseat. The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill again. But I clenched my fists, willing them to stay put.
“It’s Noah.” I said finally, my voice cracked, and Simone immediately perched next to me, her hand resting on my knee.
“Oh boy, if that dawg hurt you Imma….”
“Simone, I was the one that fucked up.” I said, trying to hold in the tears.
“What happened?” She asked with a frown on her face.
I hesitated, saying it out loud felt like tearing the wound open, all over again.
“He…. he asked for a divorce.”
“What?” Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Noah? Divorce? Are you serious?”
I nodded and the dam finally broke, the tears came, hot and relentless. As I poured out the entire story, the kiss, the confrontations, my apologies and finally his devastating words.
Simone listened without interrupting, her expression shifting from shock to anger, and finally to something softer. When I was done, she sighed deeply and shook her head.
“First of all, have you confronted Ken? Do you want me to go all black on his miserable white ass?” She asked, her voice in a fight mode.
“No I haven’t, and no, don’t do that.” I said in a trembling voice.
“Mirabelle, what the hell were you thinking?”
Her words stung, but I knew she wasn’t trying to hurt me.
That was one thing about Simone, she would always call me out on my bullshit.
“I wasn’t thinking.” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I was stupid, reckless and impulsive. I know I messed up Simone, I know I betrayed him. And now I don’t know how to fix it.”
Simone leaned back, crossing her arms.
“Do you want to fix it?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I want to.”
“Then you need to fight Mirabelle, sitting here and wallowing in your guilt, isn’t going to change anything. You have to show him that you’re serious about making this right.”
“But how?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice. “He won’t even look at me unless the kids and grandpa Ed are around, he’s angry and he has every right to be. I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive me.”
Simone’s gaze softened, and she reached for my hand. “Listen to me, Noah loves you. That much is obvious, or he wouldn’t be this hurt, you need to remind him why he married you in the first place, remind him of the woman he fell in love with.”
I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. “What if it’s too late? What if he’s already made up his mind?”
“Mirabelle, it’s only too late if you give up. Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m not saying he will forgive you overnight. But if you want to save your marriage, you need to stop idling around and start fighting. Talk to him, even if he doesn’t want to listen. Show him that you’re willing to do whatever it takes to fix this.”
Her words hit me like a jolt of electricity.
I’d been so consumed by guilt that I hadn’t even considered the possibility of fighting for our marriage and for the man I love. I’d been paralyzed, replaying that night over and over in my head instead of taking action.
“What if he doesn’t give me a chance?” I whispered.
“Then at least, you’ll know you tried.” Simone said firmly.
“But I’ve seen that man, he looks at you like if anything happens to you, he will die with you, or he will burn the whole world down to destroy what hurt you, so I know deep down that he won’t walk away without a fight. He’s just waiting for you to show him that you’re worth the effort.”
I wiped my tears and sat straighter, a spark of determination lighting up within me.
“You’re right.” I said, my voice steadier now. “I can’t just sit here and let my marriage slip through my fingers. I have to fight.”
Simone smiled and squeezed my hands.
“That’s the spirit. Now go take a shower, it smells like a dog house in here.” She said and we both laughed.
For the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe again.