Chapter 4

He stared at the stranger's profile picture, the chat log showing only two brief messages, and his brow knotted.

"Who is this?"

I answered calmly. "Someone who booked a spot for me. I have a life event to take care of next week."

I reached out to take the phone back.

He didn't give it. Instead, he caught my wrist, and his voice turned gentle.

"What kind of life event? Olivia, are you still angry that I canceled the wedding next week?"

"When I get back, I promise I'll make it up to you — whatever kind of wedding you want, wherever you want for the honeymoon, just name it. Okay?"

He poured on the sweetness, his tone warm as honey.

The three hiking buddies pretended to study the map while their ears stood straight up.

I was about to respond — when a figure stepped through the front courtyard gate.

"Mr. Hayes, am I interrupting? I happened to be passing by. Wanted to ask for some time off."

Her voice was casual, as if she were walking into her own home.

I went still.

When I'd let the guys in earlier, I was certain I had locked that gate.

She could walk in without a key. She'd clearly been here before.

I thought, with a joyless inner smile: *When did my home become a triangle?*

It had almost trapped the foolish woman who'd spent six years waiting inside it.

"I need to take extended leave," Grace Harlow continued, drifting into the living room with the ease of someone very comfortable here. "I'm going back home to rest. Might be away for... about a year."

Her gaze swept the room — touched briefly on the three hiking buddies — then landed on me, sweet as sugar.

"Good morning, Ms. Reid."

Ethan's expression didn't change. "For leave requests, just send a message. You didn't need to come all the way here."

"I was worried you'd miss it." She reached into her bag and produced a thermos, holding it out to him with a winning smile. "I made you coffee. Ethiopian Geisha beans — thought you'd like it."

Ethan glanced at me.

He didn't take it.

Grace, unfazed, simply set the thermos on the coffee table. It landed squarely on top of the Everest route map.

One of the hiking buddies choked back a laugh. "The dedication of employees these days — coming all the way to the boss's house just to file a PTO request."

Another buried his face in his water glass to hide a smirk.

Grace acted as though she hadn't heard. She turned to me, her gaze as bright and warm as the first time I'd seen her.

"You don't mind, do you, Ms. Reid? I'm so new at everything — Mr. Hayes has been so patient teaching me. I don't know what I'd do without his guidance."

"I don't mind." I gave her a light smile. "He's taught plenty of people. You're not the first."

The brightness in her smile faltered — just for a moment.

I turned to Ethan. "Phone. I'm going to the store."

He hesitated for two seconds, then handed it over.

I took it and walked past Grace. At the coffee table, I glanced down at the thermos she'd placed there.

"Freshly brewed coffee goes bad once it sits," I said simply. "Remember to take that with you when you go. I don't keep garbage in my home."

Grace's carefully arranged expression crumbled.

Her eyes went glassy. Her hand drifted — deliberately, I thought — to rest against her stomach.

"Ms. Reid, I only wanted to thank Mr. Hayes for all he's done for me... If my being here makes you uncomfortable, I won't come again."

Ethan's expression darkened.

"Olivia." His voice carried a clear edge of displeasure. "What is wrong with you? Could you not embarrass yourself like this?"

I didn't look at him. I opened the front door. "I'm exactly like this."

"You—" He took a step after me, then caught himself — the buddies and Grace were watching. He lowered his voice, sharp and clipped. "She just came to file a leave request. Was all that really necessary? Is this really your best? You think about nothing but getting married. Can you not function without a man?"

The words left his mouth. His lips pressed shut, and he added, more stiffly: "The point is — I made a commitment to these guys, and I'm leaving first thing tomorrow. The wedding's not gone, just delayed. Stop making a scene."

"Intimidating a girl like that. It just makes you look small."

"You're completely right," I said pleasantly.

And I walked out without looking back.

Behind me, one of the buddies said quietly, "Ethan — maybe go after her? You're going to be away for weeks. Leaving things like this can't be good."

Ethan didn't move. "Go after her? So she can learn that throwing a fit works? Let her walk. When she comes crawling back, she can do it on her own."

The door shut behind me.

Through the panel, I heard Ethan curse under his breath.

I thought about every argument we'd ever had, and every make-up that followed.

Every single time, I was the one who bent.

He'd go cold — and within three days, I'd crack and text first.

He'd sulk — and I'd cook his favorite meal and coax him out of it.

He'd tell me I was too much — and I'd go quiet, swallow whatever I'd been feeling, and make myself smaller.

I'd told myself that was what long relationships looked like. Compromise. Work. *Someone always has to be the one to step back.*

But standing here now, I finally understood the truth.

He had known Grace Harlow for less than six months.

And in those months, he'd given her the promotion I had once dreamed of.

He'd given her a child.

He was willing to disappear for ten months — to fake his own death — just to be near her.

In our entire relationship, even at its warmest, I had never once been treated with that kind of devotion.

I had been asking to have a child for years. He had always been scrupulously, almost obsessively careful.

He hadn't been careful because he didn't want children.

He'd been careful because he didn't want children with me.

Looking back now, I could see it — the pattern of the last six months. Later nights. More secretive texts. I'd told myself he was just driven, trying to get the company in order before the wedding.

But some things had been decided long before I knew.

A wedding that was never meant to happen... was never going to happen.