Chapter 3

After being discharged, I rested at home for a few days.

I thought I would finally get some peace and quiet, until my phone began buzzing non-stop.

Exhausted, I answered. Carter's voice on the other end was icy.

"I'm coming to pick you up for dinner."

Before I could reply, he hung up.

I figured it was best to keep things civil before signing the divorce papers, so I threw on some clothes and headed downstairs.

Seeing how drained and pale I looked, Carter suddenly seemed to remember the ointment he'd promised to buy.

"The restaurant is right past the hospital. I'll drop you off there first."

"No need. It's been days. I'm fine."

He let out a long sigh of relief.

"I figured. I mean, it's been seven years. If it still hurts, it's honestly all in your head."

I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. "Yeah. Seven years."

Seven years ago, I used every ounce of strength I had to shove Carter out of that burning building, leaving myself trapped under a collapsing, blazing roof beam.

Three fractured ribs. A cracked tailbone. Even now, after all these years, the slightest bump triggered unbearable pain.

I never told him about the permanent nerve damage because I didn't want him drowning in guilt. It wasn't "paranoia," like he claimed.

Yet we had been together for seven years. If he cared about me—even a little—how could he not know how much I hurt?

Carter kept his eyes on the road, casually talking about that night.

"After I got Chloe out of that bar, she was terrified. I stayed with her for a couple of days just to make sure she was safe. Don't go overthinking it."

I stared numbly out the passenger window.

"I'm not overthinking anything. She's your secretary. Staying by her side makes total sense."

Carter didn't like my tone. He slammed on the brakes, causing my AirPods to slip off my lap and roll under the seat.

I bent down to grab them. Instead, my fingers brushed against a sheer, lacy G-string hidden under the passenger seat.

Two weeks ago, finding this would have driven me insane. I would have screamed, cried, and demanded answers.

Now, I just smiled faintly, picked up the lace underwear, and tossed it into the back seat.

Carter cleared his throat, looking slightly flustered.

"Oh... that. Chloe probably left it here by accident after her swim lesson."

I nodded quietly and turned back to the window.

At the restaurant, a young couple at the next table kept staring at us.

Once the girl realized I noticed her, she eagerly walked over.

"Excuse me, aren't you the hot CEO from Chloe's Ins? Wow, you're even hotter in person!"

Carter glanced up at her. "Can I help you?"

The girl leaned in, full of gossip. "Are you and Chloe actually dating?"

Carter glanced down at me while I kept quietly picking at my food. Then, he flashed a charming smile at the girl.

"Yeah. Chloe and I are together."

A sharp cramp stabbed through my lower belly. I offered the girl a faint, polite smile.

The girl gave me a puzzled look.

"Then... who is she?"

"The maid," Carter said without missing a beat.

Before leaving, the girl beamed at Carter, swooning, "I'm your biggest fan! You two are endgame—you have to get married!"

Once they walked away, Carter casually dropped a scoop of ice cream onto my plate.

"Babe, don't take it personally. Chloe's 'Billionaire Romance' series on Ins is blowing up right now. It's great free PR for the firm. She's so thrilled about the numbers. If I ruin the fantasy publicly, it'll break her heart."