Chapter 7
For the first time in years, I felt light, unburdened. Even as the plane shuddered through turbulence, I slept deeply, peacefully.
Once I landed and cleared customs, I was greeted by the up–and–coming artist, Maxwell Zane, who had come personally to pick me up.
Over the past two years, Maxwell had risen to fame not only overseas but also within Azura, with his popularity now rivaling
that of Henry.
Maxwell was, in fact, the new artist Henry feared most.
“Finally! I’ve been waiting for you, Rosalind!” he said enthusiastically, giving me a warm hug and a cheek kiss.
Though I knew it was meant as a friendly gesture, I couldn’t help but blush at the intimate gesture.
After all, after ten years of knowing Henry, he had grown indifferent to me, so much so that he barely lifted a finger for me
anymore.
19
He would often say, “You know, after so many years, we might as well be like brothers. Touching you would just disgust me.
Gradually, it seemed like I was no longer his wife, but just his unpaid manager and free housekeeper.
Maxwell drove me to the apartment he had arranged for me.
