Stella
The car ride to my apartment is silent. The radio quietly plays in the background but it is drowned out from the ringing that sounds inside my ears. I turn away from Adrian, unable to even look or breathe in his direction.
Am I a fool? Have I been tricked this entire time? Has Adrian’s sudden kindness and urge to care for me in my time of need blossomed from a need to be seen as a good husband during our divorce?
The thought of being used makes me sick to my stomach. I do not even know why I am so surprised by this revelation. The beginning of our relationship — our marriage — was founded on a contract that had me giving him everything and him giving me nothing.
Adrian’s car comes to a sudden halt in the front of my apartment building. I fumble with my seatbelt, my weak hands struggling to unlock it before I reach for the car door. Adrian is quick to the side of me and is already outside of the car when I push the passenger door open.
“Stella,” Adrian’s voice carries a