Chapter 33
~ Franklin ~
The meeting was a grueling four-hour marathon.
By the time it was over, my mind was a fog of numbers and corporate strategy.
All I wanted was a glass of scotch and a moment of peace without Octavia hounding me to sign those divorce papers.
Lately, I had noticed Bella acting strange—distant, perhaps, or just different. It had been going on longer than I cared to admit, but because I loved her, I chose to look the other way.
Our communication had dwindled; now, it seemed I was always the one reaching out.
I made a mental note to call her either tonight or tomorrow; I was simply too exhausted to deal with it tonight.
When I reached the estate, I expected the usual sight: Octavia hunched over her laptop in the living room, hovering in the kitchen with the maids, or dozing off on the sofa—a position I'd caught her in more than a few times lately.
"Clarence?" I called out, tossing my suit jacket and briefcase onto the sofa.
