Divorce Is Impossible

"We should get a divorce."

"Meet me tomorrow afternoon at four o'clock at Lewis Mansion. We need to talk."

Baylee Morrison was propped against the bar, her eyes fixed on her phone. Her grip on the device was so tight that her knuckles whitened, a stark contrast to the dark bar atmosphere.

The two messages signaled the imminent end of her three-year marriage to Julian Lewis. A whirlwind of emotions surged through her.

Julian hadn't bothered to discuss the divorce with her beforehand.

Their marriage, if it could even be called that, had been suffocating. Baylee had not met Julian in person even after they got married. With a bitter smile, she tossed back a glass of wine.

The dance floor was alive with revelers, the club's vibrant scene a stark contrast to Baylee's inner turmoil. This was Breross' most exclusive club, a playground for the rich.

Baylee's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for Linda Wright, her closest friend.

Linda had coaxed Baylee out tonight to toast the imminent end of her celibate marriage and the prospect of returning to single life.

But Linda was nowhere to be seen. Baylee signaled the bartender. "Another brandy, please."

Her concerns were not solely about her impending divorce; her career was at a standstill.

Star Company, where she worked, had not been receiving any major orders recently. Without a turnaround, she faced financial jeopardy.

She downed another brandy, seeking solace in its burn.

After a few rounds, the alcohol kicked in, causing her to feel slightly dizzy.

Baylee checked the clock, realizing it was well past their agreed meeting time and puzzled by Linda's absence.

Right on cue, her phone rang-it was Linda calling.

"Sorry, Baylee!" Linda's urgent voice came from the other end, sounding breathless. "My boss sprung a last-minute trip on me. I can't make it tonight. Rain check?"

"It's okay. Take care of your work," Baylee responded, her tone forgiving.

Linda's voice carried a hint of mischief over the phone. "Baylee, since I can't be there, I've arranged a little surprise for you. I've booked a very charming companion for you in Room 777. Have fun!"

Baylee hesitated, her initial instinct was to decline. "But... I'm not sure that's wise. I'm still technically married."

Linda cut her off with a mix of frustration and indignation, "What marriage? Your husband of three years has barely acknowledged you, and now he wants a divorce out of the blue! He hasn't shown you any respect, so you don't need to consider his feelings."

Baylee's emotions churned as she listened.

Anger and self-pity surged within her.

Considering Julian's neglect over the past three years and his sudden desire for divorce, she thought maybe it was time to seek her own happiness.

"You're right," Baylee admitted, clutching her phone. The alcohol in her system lent her a rare boldness. "I don't owe Julian anything."

"Exactly!" Linda's voice was triumphant. "Go on, enjoy yourself."

After ending the call, Baylee rose, her movements a bit unsteady, and made her way to Room 777.

Determined to shed the frustrations of the past three years, she approached the door. The room number blurred and danced before her eyes as she pushed the door open and entered.

Inside, a man sat on the sofa, his back to her.

His posture exuded elegance.

At the sound of her entrance, he turned around, his expression detached.

Baylee squinted in the dim light, trying to discern his features.

The man before her had striking features, his handsome face framed by deep, penetrating eyes and full lips, lending him an air of sophistication.

Baylee found herself momentarily captivated by the sight, reinforcing Linda's assertion of his allure.

Julian, on receiving such unexpected attention, was equally surprised.

Encounters of this nature were not entirely new to him, so he responded with a frosty, "Leave."

Baylee, not quite herself due to the alcohol, ignored his command and drew closer, looping her arms around his neck.

"I have a thing for men with a wild side..." she murmured to Julian, her voice a drunken slur.

Enthralled by Julian's strong chest, Baylee felt emboldened and daringly pecked his cheek. She playfully tapped his face, locking eyes with him. "Handsome, you bear such a resemblance to my husband. Haha."

Julian, typically reserved and distant from women, found this proximity unusual. Surprisingly, he didn't push her away, experiencing an odd, unfamiliar warmth.

Yet, his patience had its limits.

With a swift move, Julian detached Baylee from himself, grabbed an ice bucket, and doused her with its contents, his tone sharp. "Wake up and see who you're really with."

The shock of the cold jolted Baylee to clarity. As she gazed at the man before her, a cool detachment reflected on his face.

With his visage now fully imprinted in her mind, a shocking realization dawned on her.

This man was Julian, her husband, unseen for three years, whom she had just mistaken for a gigolo!

Baylee hadn't anticipated her encounter with her husband to unfold like this; the sight of Julian nearly made her trip.

A wave of panic washed over her as she recalled her earlier flirting behavior.

Julian's imposing silhouette cast a shadow that engulfed her entirely, making her feel trapped. She shivered, instinctively stepping back to create distance between them.

Seated on the sofa, Julian rested his chin in his hand, giving Baylee a chilly gaze.

Under his stare, fear crept into Baylee, weakening her knees. She parted her lips, debating whether to disclose her identity and inform Julian that she was the woman he was about to divorce.

The thought alone terrified her, much less the act of speaking it.

His intense gaze turned seconds into what felt like an eternity.

As Baylee mustered the courage to speak, the ringing of Julian's phone shattered the silence.

He glanced at it and dismissed her with a frosty command. "Leave, this is the last time I'm telling you."

Her heart racing, Baylee didn't dare linger and fled as quickly as she could.

Julian remained impassive until she was out of sight, then he attended to his call.

"Julian, what's the status of the divorce?" It was his mother, Rita Lewis, pressing him on the other end. "You must expedite. That woman cannot remain a part of our family."

"I'm aware," Julian responded coolly. "The lawyer's on it. No need to press me."

He then hung up, straightening his suit's crumpled collar.

He found himself glancing the way Baylee had gone, frowning as he fought to quell the unusual turmoil within him.

The following afternoon, with eyes rimmed by dark circles, Baylee headed towards the Lewis Mansion.

Haunted by worry and regret following her encounter with Julian at the bar, she had hardly slept, troubled by thoughts of how he would react upon discovering her identity as his wife.

Despite preparing herself for numerous outcomes and steeling her resolve, Baylee couldn't shake off her nervousness when the moment of their official meeting arrived.

Driving with her mind in a whirl, Baylee's average skills betrayed her as she neared the Lewis Mansion, resulting in her car colliding with the Ferrari before her.

Panic seized her.

Facing financial ruin, she knew the cost of this mistake would be astronomical.

Before she could gather her thoughts, a knock on her window snapped her back to the present.

Startled, she hurriedly rolled down the window.

"Sorry, I..." Her apology was cut short.

She hadn't expected Julian to be the one standing there.

Her heart plummeted.

Julian, momentarily taken aback, quickly masked his surprise with a scowl.

Baylee realized he must have recognized her from their unfortunate encounter the night before, likely harboring a grave misinterpretation.

True to her fears, Julian's next words dripped with scorn. "Are you following me?"

Resigning to her fate, she exited the car to clarify.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't following you. Last night was a misunderstanding," she hastened to explain, her gaze shifting between the damage on both cars.

Her vehicle bore the brunt of the collision, while Julian's Ferrari sported a significant dent.

The potential cost made Baylee feel despair, doubting her savings would cover the expenses.

"A misunderstanding, you say?" Julian's disbelief was evident. "What are the odds that we bumped into each other again so soon, huh?"

"I'm telling the truth!" Baylee insisted, anxiety heightening as she saw his skepticism. "I mistook you for a gigolo last night because I was drunk. I..."

Her voice tapered off, realizing her words only fueled Julian's anger.

For someone of Julian's stature, nothing could be more insulting than being mistaken for a male escort by a stranger.

Baylee refrained from further explanations, fearing it would worsen the situation.

She decided to come clean about her identity, knowing they were bound to cross paths later.

With a steadying breath, she looked up at Julian and began, "Actually, I'm your..."

"Enough!" Julian cut off Baylee's attempt to explain.

His face was set in a firm expression; he had grown weary of those who pursued him for his social standing.

"No need to worry about the damage costs. Just stay out of my sight. Consider this your last warning," Julian declared with finality before he climbed into his car.

"Wait!" Baylee called out, seeing Julian's car begin to pull away. She raced forward, trying to catch up.

As Julian's car turned a corner, vanishing from sight, Baylee rushed back to her own vehicle, hoping to follow him.

However, after the collision, her car faltered, in contrast to Julian's Ferrari, which remained operational. The engine stuttered and smoke billowed from the front before it ceased to operate altogether.

Left with no other option, Baylee called for a tow and flagged down a taxi along the road to take her to the Lewis Mansion.

The recent events surely hadn't painted her in a favorable light in Julian's eyes. She fretted over how this might affect their impending divorce discussion.

At least she wasn't responsible for the car's damages, offering her a slight reprieve from her concerns.

"To the Lewis Mansion, and please, quick," she urged the taxi driver.

Her phone vibrated inside her bag.

Casting a glance, she saw the caller ID: Aidan Patel, her boss.

But wasn't she supposed to be off today? Why was Aidan reaching out to her now?

As she accepted the call, Aidan's voice filled the space, loud and urgent.

"Baylee! Where are you? I need you right now!"

His sudden demand caught her off guard. Before she could ask for details, he continued, "There's a big project I'm chasing, and I need your assistance. Dress sharply; we're meeting at the Red Nightclub in two hours."

Baylee hesitated, sensing a dilemma. "Mr. Patel, I'm sorry, but I'm currently tied up with something critical. Is it possible to arrange this for another day?"

Missing Julian's appointment could worsen his opinion of her, and the thought of it left her feeling unsettled.

Aidan's response was unwavering. "You have to be there! Our client is ready to invest fifty million dollars. It's an opportunity many dream of and would do anything for. If you miss out, we might lose this deal. Considering your financial situation, I'd say this chance is too good to pass up."

Fifty million dollars?!

That was an astronomical figure! Baylee was caught off guard.

"Alright, I'm on my way," she quickly agreed, ended the call, and told the driver with urgency to head back to her place.

Aidan had a point. Her financial woes made the deal a priority over her personal issues, including her marriage.

At the Lewis Mansion, Julian had arrived on time, finding his attorney, Cormac Scott, already there. The only person absent was Baylee.

Julian's patience waned, his frustration with Baylee's lack of punctuality adding to his growing disdain.

After a while, without any sign of her, Julian turned to Cormac, his impatience evident. "Please, check on her whereabouts."

"I'll give her a call," Cormac said, promptly reaching for his phone to contact Baylee. The moment the call was answered, he began, "Ms. Morrison, hello, this is Cormac, representing Mr. Lewis..."

"Apologies!" Baylee's rushed voice cut through. "I'm tied up with an urgent matter and won't be able to attend. Can we reschedule the divorce discussion? I'm really sorry for the inconvenience. Please convey my apologies to Julian. Bye."

With that, she ended the call.

Cormac was left without the opportunity to inquire about a future time to discuss matters.

Julian, his tone icy, inquired, "What was her response?"

Cormac relayed Baylee's message without omission.

This marked the first time Julian had been stood up.

His frustration, compounded by various disappointments, boiled over, and his desire to confront Baylee vanished.

He had planned for a respectful conclusion to their marriage, hence the scheduled meeting. Now, it seemed pointless.

Rising swiftly, Julian exited the Lewis Mansion.

Cormac, after a brief hesitation, hurried after him. "Sir, regarding the divorce..."

"Take care of it," Julian snapped, barely containing his anger. "Prepare the paperwork and ensure she signs it. I refuse to spend another moment on this matter."