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Love Gone Hollow Novel Cover

Love Gone Hollow

For five years, the public has viewed Emma Newman as the ultimate muse to her billionaire husband, Noah Lester. However, the reality of their marriage is a hollow performance. Noah openly cycles through a series of young mistresses, mocking the idea of eternal love by claiming that once a muse is caught, the excitement vanishes. Unbeknownst to him, Emma has reached her breaking point. Tired of his blatant disrespect and the exhausting charade, she begins secretly orchestrating her departure from his life.
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Chapter 3

Noah stayed by my side until dawn.

I woke to the shrill ring of his phone.

Seeing me stir, he frowned and declined the call, only for it to ring again immediately.

Once.

Twice.

The incessant noise drilled into my skull.

“You should head back to the office,” I said softly.

“I’m fine now. I’ll be discharged soon.”

He hesitated before nodding slowly.

“Well… you know how hectic things have been at work lately. I really can’t—”

“I know,” I interrupted gently. “I understand.”

That calm, compliant response made him pause longer than usual.

He looked as if he didn’t know whether to stay or go.

But then a new message from Jill lit up his phone screen.

I had caught a glimpse of the content.

She wore a maid's costume, barely covering anything.

Desire darkened his eyes before he wrestled it under control.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Emma? If there’s anything—anything at all—don’t keep it in. I’m your husband. I’ll always be your strongest support.”

I turned my face to the side, away from him.

“Mm,” I murmured, my voice even.

He couldn’t resist the temptation for long and eventually rose to his feet.

“Then I’ll head to the office for a bit. I’ll come pick you up this evening, I promise.”

The moment he left, I realized my cheeks were wet.

I hadn’t even noticed I’d started crying.

Silently, I reached for my phone and typed a message to Jill.

[Noah is on his way to you now. Let’s see if you can get him to sign the divorce papers.]

Jill responded instantly—as if she’d been waiting.

[Since you’re so kindly handing your position over to me, of course, I’ll grant your wish. A divorce agreement? Please. He’ll sign anything for me.]

I attached the prepared documents and sent one final line: [I do hope your confidence lasts.]

Her reply came dripping with venom: [Oh, I’m nothing like you, sickly little woman. You’ve no idea how obsessed he is with me.

[Even when I’m on my period, he can’t keep his hands off me. He’d rather die on top of me than spend another night with your pathetic—]

I powered off my phone.

Then I stepped out of the hospital room and took the opportunity to schedule a health checkup.

Ever since Noah donated his bone marrow to me, I have stayed on a strict regimen of recovery and care.

The doctor’s voice was calm and warm when he spoke to me.

“Ms. Newman, your condition has improved significantly. Now would be an ideal time if you’re considering getting pregnant.”

I had always looked forward to regaining my health, so I could finally plan for a baby with Noah.

But now, none of it mattered anymore.

“Thank you, Doctor. But I don’t think that’ll be necessary. I was only curious about my bone marrow status.”

Satisfied with the results, I stepped out of the consultation room.

Just as I exited, I heard a familiar voice drifting out from the exam room next door.

“Doctor, can you check what’s going on?”

Noah’s voice sounded strained, laced with fear, punctuated by Jill’s sharp cries of pain.

The doctor examined her quickly, his tone disapproving.

“Ruptured corpus luteum. Bear with it,” he said briskly.

“Even if you're young and healthy, you can’t treat your body like this. Recklessness has consequences.”

I froze mid-step, standing just outside the door, struggling to hold back the sting of tears welling up behind my eyes.

So this was the legendary stamina that made my sickly body inadequate.

A laugh escaped me, bitter and brittle, before I turned toward the discharge desk.

I knew better than to expect Noah now, and no longer intended to wait for him.

Sure enough, as darkness fell, my phone finally rang.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” Noah said, sounding apologetic.

“Things are still chaotic at the office, and I really can’t get away right now.

“I know I promised to pick you up, but it looks like I’ll have to break my word again.”

The guilt in his voice was almost convincing.

I muttered a few half-hearted replies, just enough to get through the call, and hung up.

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