The job portals blurred before Emma’s eyes as she sat at the tiny corner table in the café, a lukewarm coffee forgotten by her hand. She blinked at the screen again, scrolling past generic postings…
“Assistant Needed.”
“Data Entry—Fast Typers Only.”
“Warehouse Sorting”
And none of them fit the life she once knew. Not that it mattered anymore.
After the auction, Oliver had cut her off completely. Her accounts were frozen, her car was gone, leaving her all over with the mountain of debts and medical bills. She even started selling her shares but that wouldn't last longer either.
She shut the laptop with a soft sigh and rubbed her temple. The fatigue was catching up— waves of it, dragging her under. Every morning, her stomach turned with nausea. But she barely had time for herself.
He
