It’s Too Late To Get A Divorce

Chapter 9 

Tears flowed uncontrollably down Alita’s face when she stepped out of the hotel. 

All the pain she’d been holding back just exploded right then. Alita walked to a coconut tree, gazing at the ocean, 

and tears streamed down. 

The breeze blew, ruffling her dress and messing up her neat hair. 

Staring at the surging sea in the darkness, she felt a strange familiarity, as if that place was her ultimate refuge. She was alone in this world. Relatives, husband, and even that old crush–they all just left her, and not even 

memories lingered. 

Suddenly, a white rose appeared before her eyes. Startled, she took two steps back, not even having time to wipe her tears. She stumbled into a sturdy embrace, and a large hand rested on her waist. 

Slightly frightened, she looked up and, by the moonlight, saw a masked face with a tall hat. The only visible features were a narrow nose and delicate l*ps. The eyes were hidden under the brim, radiating mystery. 

“Who are you?” Alita spoke to him in Theisian, unsure if he was Eskanese or a foreigner. 

The man circled her waist, shaking the white rose and transforming it into a handkerchief. “I’m a magician.” 

Alita looked at his hand in surprise. She took the handkerchief and pulled it. “Impressive. 

“Beautiful miss, a handkerchief is for wiping, not pulling.” The man lifted her hand and gently pressed it against her face, wiping away the tears. 

The simple gesture made Alita feel warm, and she noticed a fine ring on his pinky finger, sparkling silver. 

Despite the ambiguous move, she didn’t push him away. The flirtatious closeness with a stranger felt dangerous yet oddly liberating. She felt she could speak freely. “Mr. Magician, everyone needs warmth, you know, but I feel so cold and lonely.” NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

“Don’t be afraid. Just hold on tight, and you won’t be cold.” The man’s strong arm–entcircled her, leaning down to rest his head on her shoulder. His fluent Ocraolian sounded enchanting. 

Alita smiled. You’re right. Just holding on tight can keep me warm. But I don’t have anyone to hold on to.” 

“Don’t you have a husband?” 

“I do, but he’ll never be the one I can hold on to. He doesn’t love me.” 

“Do you love him?” The man’s voice revealed a hint of nervousness. 

After thinking for a while, Alita said, “I’m not sure.” She dared not answer honestly, fearing it would only deepen her despair. 

Without any warning, a kiss full of intense desire landed on Alita’s l*ps. Alita hastily broke free and fled back to 

the hotel. 

Sitting on the lobby sofa, still in shock, she realized how reckless she had been. She had been kissed by a 

stranger. 

She sat there for quite a while, and the wound reopened again. The white handkerchief Samuel tied for her was now completely stained red. Limping back to her room, she saw Jaydon standing at her door, hands in his pockets, his tall figure and handsome face exuding inherent nobility. 

Seeing her, he frowned and questioned, “Where did you go?” 

“Visiting a lover,” Alita bluntly replied.