I Want a Divorce by Nadia Gordon

Chapter 111 Voice Recorder

The first show was scheduled for the next day. Abigail took the dress to her room for final checks to prevent unforeseen circumstances. When she opened her room door, she was startled to find Sean sitting there.

He had returned to his company two days ago, so she assumed he wouldn’t be back so soon. His sudden appearance in her room rattled her already tense nerves.

“You seem surprised to see me,” he remarked casually as he put down her notebook.

Abigail used the notebook to doodle patterns for the dress, often finding inspiration at random moments. She hadn’t expected Sean to go through her notebook, especially when he had previously shown little interest in her work. “I heard you went back to work. Of course, I’m surprised to see you in my room,” she replied, quickly coming up with an excuse. She composed herself and held her dress up a little, then she went into the room and closed the door.

He glanced at the dress in her hands. “Is Luna having you check the dress instead of working on it

herself?”

“She wants me to check the details. She’s exhausted after working on it all day,” she explained.

He then turned his attention to her notebook. “Nice patterns. Did Luna ask you to learn this as

well?”

Abigail hung the dress on a hanger, feeling slightly offended by Sean’s comment. Her mind was already weary from a long day’s work, and she couldn’t figure out why Sean would ask her that. “Yep. What do you think? Do I have enough talent to be a designer?”

acknowledged. “Many people don’t have talent, but hard

and changed the subject. “A stranger pricked me

did it?”

I’ll handle it,” Sean calmly

hint of subtle mockery flickering

pretending to be

held the dress, finding the

sure to get some rest. You’re

before leaving the room.

but it was just a brief visit. She entered the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water. When she looked at her reflection, she frowned. She appeared vacant and worn; even she was repulsed

the dress, she sewed a few patches to perfect

her door roused her from hier groggy state the following day. It wasn’t

Abigail was about to

“Open up. It’s me,

the door, greeted by a pale Luna, which instantly alarmed her. “What’s wrong? Did you stay up all

found this in the couch crevices this morning. Someone must

it while we weren’t looking.” Luna showed the voice recorder and squeezed into

room.