Chapter 3

I didn't sleep all night.

Before leaving that morning, I spent a long time on my makeup.

The dark circles under my eyes wouldn't hide. I used twice my usual concealer just to cover those exhausted shadows.

The woman in the mirror wore a crisp, tailored suit. Still presentable.

I drove into the underground garage at Weston Capital.

In the elevator, the mirrored doors reflected my expressionless face.

Then came a soft ding, and the doors opened on the executive floor.

The conference room was nearly full.

Grant sat at the head of the table. His "little kitten" stood right behind him.

Unlike the photos, today she wore a black business suit.

More... proper. More like the dutiful secretary.

Then I noticed Grant's left hand resting on the table. On his ring finger, beside our wedding band, sat a simple platinum ring.

At almost the same moment, Mia reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. On her ring finger, a similar metallic gleam caught the light.

Matching couple's rings?

How sweet.

The meeting began.

Grant ran the agenda. His presentation was sharp and efficient, data and charts flowing smoothly across the projection screen.

I was just one face among many, quietly taking notes, eyes mostly on my tablet or the screen ahead.

But I could feel it—glances drifting from me to Grant, then toward Mia.

I wasn't the only one in this room who knew what those hidden rings meant.

Midway through, Grant was outlining the expansion plan for next quarter.

Between points, he picked up his phone with practiced ease, unlocked it, glanced down. His fingers tapped the screen a few times as he replied to a message.

On the edge of the projection screen, a notification preview popped up.

Mia: "I changed the sheets—that silk set you love. You said it wasn't wet enough last time, so I got that oil you said works so well. Tonight, I want you completely spent."

Audible gasps rippled through the room.

Several stunned glances shot toward Grant before landing on me.

Mia raised her hand to cover her mouth, her cheeks slowly flushing—like a young girl being teased.

Grant didn't react at all. He kept presenting, though a hint of amusement played at his lips.

Mia ducked her head lower, her ears turning red.

I sat frozen in my seat, fists clenched, eyes still fixed on the spreadsheet. I couldn't process a single number.

This was a provocation.

After the meeting, people filed out.

Mia and I came face to face at the corner leading to the elevators.

Or rather—she'd been waiting there for me.

The shame from the conference room had vanished from her face.

"Evelyn." She didn't call me Mrs. Weston anymore. "Grant already told me. He's getting a divorce."

I didn't stop walking. I just glanced at her. "And?"

My voice was just as calm—polite, even, in a detached way.

She seemed caught off guard by my reaction. She paused, then lifted her chin slightly.

"Know your place."

"Without Grant," she said, "you're nothing. You're just a minor shareholder here. Did you really think you could keep him with your little stake?"

Just then, a female board member who'd been walking behind me stepped forward, a smile on her face but ice in her eyes. "Mia, you're quite dedicated to your job. I enjoyed your little performance in there—though it was a bit trashy."

She turned to me with a slight smile. "Evelyn, let's not waste any more time on shameless people. Shall we?"

The color drained from Mia's face.

Grant strode over, his expression dark. He pulled Mia to his side. "Evelyn, this isn't the place."

"This is a company, not somewhere to air your personal grievances. Show some restraint."

Mia hid behind him, tugging gently at his sleeve, her voice small: "It's fine, Grant, don't... I'm okay."

He shot me a hard look, wrapped his arm around Mia's shoulders, and walked away.

I stood there, watching them disappear behind the elevator doors.

Grant, do you really think I'm the one who can't live without you?