The Letters He Stole A Billionaire's Stolen Love

After the high school reunion.

Evelyn said it out of nowhere. “Connor Delgado, let's get a divorce.”

I wasn't surprised. “Even if he's rotten to the core, you still love him?”

She let out a quiet laugh. “You forget, I'm rotten too.”

Two rotten people. A perfect match.

I found myself smiling. “Fine.”

Good, even. The spot she'd be vacating already had someone waiting in line.

……

Evelyn didn't seem to expect me to agree so easily.

But the flicker lasted only a second before she pressed it down and looked at me, composed.

“I'll have the divorce papers sent over tomorrow. Whatever's yours, you'll get every cent.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Evelyn!”

A voice came from behind us.

Winston Gilbert staggered over, reeking of alcohol, and threw his arms around her. “Long time no see. All these years, did you miss me?”

Evelyn didn't push him away. She even reached up and held him, her expression softer than anything I'd seen in three years of marriage.

“Evelyn, why aren't you saying anything?”

Winston turned his bleary eyes on me and jabbed a finger in my direction.

“Evelyn! Don't tell me you actually fell for this pushover? A guy like him probably only knows one position in bed. You and me, we used to do all kinds of things, and you loved every second of it, you slut. You're really gonna settle for a dead fish? You think you can handle that?”

His voice got louder with every word, and then he lunged at me.

Evelyn grabbed his hand and pulled him back, then turned to me. “Sorry. He's drunk.”

I was still her husband, right now, at this moment—and her first instinct was to apologize to me on behalf of another man.

I gave a self-deprecating laugh. “It's fine. I don't mind. If there's nothing else, I'm heading back.”

Evelyn hummed in acknowledgment. “”“I'm not coming home tonight. I'll find you tomorrow.”

My step faltered, just once. I said nothing.

Back at the apartment, I stood in the place we'd shared for three years.

From the hopeful day we signed the marriage certificate, to the first time we slept together and she blurted out Winston's name, to the night she was sick with fever and mistook me for him. Until all that was left was numbness.

Ten years. Whatever this thing was between me and Evelyn Henson, it was finally over.

I let out a quiet laugh and walked into the bedroom to pack.

I didn't own much. One suitcase held everything.

I finished packing and lay down. I thought I'd lie awake all night, but the moment I closed my eyes I was out.

And for the first time in years, I dreamed about the day I first saw Evelyn.

Every school has that one person everyone knows.

At Northshore High, Evelyn Henson was it.

Wealthy family, beautiful face, top grades. Her only flaw, if you could call it that, was how fast she went through boyfriends.

I used to despise girls like her. I even thought they cheapened the word ‘love’.

Then one day a friend dragged me to watch her perform the opening dance at the sports meet.

The crowd was huge, and I got pushed all the way to the front.

The noise was deafening. I was uncomfortable and about to leave.

Then a jacket landed on my head, soft and warm, carrying the scent of jasmine.

I yanked it off in a panic and looked up into a bright, radiant smile. “Hey, hold my jacket for me? I'm about to go on.”

My heart nearly broke through my ribs.

From that day on, I had someone to pine for.

When junior year came and we had to pick tracks, I chose humanities, a subject I had zero interest in, just to be in her class.

I watched her cycle through boyfriend after boyfriend and it killed me, but I had no right to say a word.

So I did the only thing I could, the same thing every other lovesick fool did: I kept writing anonymous love letters, one after another.