I Signed Away Eight Million To Leave Him Chapter 22
A few months later, life with Eli had settled into its own steady rhythm.
We pooled our salaries and savings, made a down payment, and bought a small house on the outskirts of St. Petersburg.
It wasn’t big. Two bedrooms, an old kitchen that was always drafty, and a backyard overrun with weeds.
But it was a home we had chosen together, and one we would pay off together.
On weekends, we spread renovation plans across the dining table. Eli wanted to turn the second bedroom into a study; I wanted to keep half of it for guests. He picked a deep navy paint for the walls; I said it was too dark. In the end, we chose a warm, pale green together.
The life was ordinary, but the steadiness of it felt safer than any mansion.
The only thing that disturbed that peace was Graham.
After divorcing Sloane, he began contacting me again from a string of unknown numbers.
The restraining order might as well have been a scrap of paper.
Sometimes he called drunk and cursing, demanding to know how I dared marry someone else. Other times he begged in a low voice, saying he had only made one mistake.
But it had never been just one mistake.
Every time I heard his voice, I hung up and blocked the number.
That night, Eli and I were sitting on the living room floor comparing flooring samples when my phone rang again.
Unknown number.
I assumed it was the renovation company and answered without thinking.
“Mara.”
One word was all it took. I knew it was Graham.
I lifted my hand to hang up, but he must have sensed it.
“Don’t hang up!” he cried, his voice raw with urgency. “Please. Just give me one minute.”