The billionaire's imperfect arrangement

“What's all this?” Ryla's hands shook as she held the printed letter. The lawyer, who wore a stern but professional look, looked away, ignoring her questions. He seemed quite impatient. Ryla couldn't believe her eyes, her ex-husband, Joshua, had threatened to take away the restaurant which she had labored to build. He was going to take the matter to court if she hadn't given up the restaurant for a week. “It is clearly stated there that you must vacate the restaurant in a week's time else we'll be meeting in court,” the lawyer intoned. “I founded this restaurant, Joshua only helped me run in,” Ryla said to him. “You’ve been warned, Mrs Felstead”, the lawyer said gravely. Tears stung at the back of her eyes. Why was Joshua hell-bent on frustrating her? What had she done to deserve all that he was doing? She remembered how their marriage had been full of love and care, she had loved him with everything in her, but then she found out that he had been having an affair. He totally changed when he met Idla, a lady he had claimed was his friend. Joshua turned into an entirely different man as he kept late nights and started complaining stayed about how he was tired of the marriage. They had only been married for just two years, she remembered solely, it was as if fate was playing out on her again. A lot of memories came flooding into her. She remembered when she was just a little girl, how her family had broken in two when her father cheated on her mother. Yes, she remembered it like it was just yesterday. Her father had suddenly given her mother a divorce letter and left only the next day with his mistress. Ryla had vowed to have a very good marriage which was totally different from her parents' and she put in her best to make hers work. But again, Joshua, like her father had done, presented her with a divorce letter and said he was getting married to another. A tear slipped down her cheeks and then, as if given a go ahead, tears poured down her face, her knees buckled and she felt weak. “I can't let him do this, I own this restaurant,” Ryla said, “Please, this is the only thing that I have. Don't let him do this” Just as she was pleading with the lawyer, a black Lexus slipped into the lot, and she watched as Joshua got down. He adjusted his suit to be aware of her eyes on him and then turned round the car to get the other door open. Idla threw a slender leg out of the car and got out, her nose held high like a kitten. Her chest hurt from seeing the man that she had always loved with another lady who was soon to be his wife. They both walked hand in hand to her, a couple of smiles plastered on their faces. “What is this, Joshua?” Ryla asked. “Hello, Ryla” Idla smiled, ignoring her question,” I see that you have gotten the letter already.” Ryla gave her a look, then decided to wave her off like a disturbing fly. She turned back to Joshua. “What have I ever done to you?” Ryla asked, her voice choking in the tears that threatened to come down again. “Ryla,” Joshua started, tucking his hands into his trousers pockets, “I thought I made it clear in the letter, just give up trying to fight for what isn't yours and hand me back to the restaurant before it becomes too late” “This is my restaurant, Joshua. Mine!” Ryla yelled and Joshua smiled even more. Joshua bit his lower lip, “I only came to make sure you got the letter and not to have a debate with you. Give up, Ryla. We both know you don't have what it takes to battle with me,” Ryla stared at him, a tear slipped down her cheeks again. She watched Idla wrap her hands around Joshua's waist and gave her a smile. “Anyway, before you finally vacate our property, we would like to invite you to our wedding. It's coming up this weekend,” Idla smiled, “You should come. Who knows you might find someone.” “Don't forget, Ryla. You have only a week to stay clear of this restaurant and give us all the necessary documents,” Joshua said, ”Until then, stay alive.” Ryla felt like dropping on the floor and drowning in her tears as she watched them walk away with the lawyer. Her chest was hurting, tears flowed freely down her eyes as she felt devastated and hopeless. She needed to clear her head, she needed to get away, somewhere convenient to drown in her pains. By evening, Ryla pushed open the door to a bar as loud rock music jammed into her ears, laughter and the noise of glass clicking rented the air, competing with the smell of alcohol. She walked mechanically to a bar stool and slipped in. “What do you care for, Ma'am?” The young bartender asked her. Ryla's hair was wild around her head and her face stained with tears. “Whiskey,” Ryla muttered. The waiter slips away and returns almost immediately with a glass of whiskey. Ryla grabs it and takes a long, quick gulp. She slammed the glass on the counter and grimaced as the liquor burned down her throat. “More,” She said, and the waiter nodded. He came back with a refill, and again she snatched it away from him, gulping it all down. Her head felt as light as a feather as she did, she slipped some money to him and slipped off of the stool, her legs seeming like jellyfish. Her stomach rumbled, and she clutched it, her head was aching badly and she suddenly felt sick. “I need a -” A man was saying to the bartender. Ryla turned in his direction and leaned over him, throwing up on his chest. The man pushed her away quickly, staring down at his soiled suit jacket. Ryla felt sick even more. “What the f**k!” He yelled, ”Are you crazy?” Ryla knew she was in trouble. She turned quickly and dashed out of the bar with the man yelling after her. She clutched her stomach, running drunkenly across the road… God help her!