Chapter 3
713 Words
I stood there for a long time, swallowing the bitterness that rose in my throat.
I threw myself into keeping that broken-down household together even harder than before.
During the worst year, I followed him everywhere, business trips, client meetings. I smiled when I didn't want to, drank when I couldn't take another sip.
I worked myself so hard that I lost the baby. I never said a word of blame.
Cedric and Vivienne did get better, slowly.
He started coming home earlier. Sometimes he'd bring back a pastry he knew I liked.
Vivienne began calling me Jo again. Her tone was still a little stiff, but at least she wasn't treating me like I was invisible anymore.
I thought the worst was behind us.
I thought if I just did enough, gave enough, that "what if" would finally disappear from their hearts for good.
But the words Cedric left me with before he died told me the truth.
It had all been wishful thinking.
"That's not what I meant, Jo. Those words... I didn't mean them."
His voice was shaking. He looked like he was falling apart.
I watched him quietly for a moment.
"Whether you meant them or not doesn't matter anymore."
"If I'd gone with Dominic Hale, he would have looked after the Shaw family for my sake. You and Vivienne wouldn't have had to suffer like that."Cedric, let's get a divorce. It's the best way."
He stared at me without a word.
Then he pulled open the door on the other side and climbed in, squeezing into the seat beside me.
The back seat was cramped enough already. Now it was worse.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"Mr. Shaw, what exactly are you doing?"
He stiffened his neck and stared out the window, refusing to look at me.
"I happened to get off work early. Thought I'd go enjoy the sea breeze with my wife and my sister. Is that a problem?"
His ears were burning red, but his face was doing its best impression of a man with nothing to be embarrassed about.
In our last life, he'd been exactly the same after my miscarriage.
He knew he was wrong. He just couldn't bring himself to say it.
He couldn't manage a single word of comfort. All he could do was show up in his own clumsy way.
But what good did that do?
The car headed toward the pier.
Nobody spoke. The only sound was the low hum of the air conditioning.
He sat perfectly still, his body positioned squarely between me and the window.
And then I understood.
In our last life, when the car stopped at the pier entrance, the angle at which I bent down to step out was exactly how Dominic Hale first saw me.
I was caught between finding it absurd and finding it heartbreaking when the car lurched violently.
The whole vehicle tilted to the right.
Cedric's first instinct was to pull me into his arms, bracing his back hard against the seat.
Just as the car was about to flip, a black Maybach appeared out of nowhere and slammed against the hood, pinning it in place.
A dull thud came from the front.
The car rocked twice, then was shoved back onto level ground by sheer force.
A voice came from outside, unhurried and calm.
"Everyone alright in there?"
Cedric's expression turned ugly.
I looked out through the window.
A man stood by the hood, impeccably dressed, with sharp, cool features.
Dominic Hale.
The bodyguard behind him looked like this was just another Tuesday.
Cedric squeezed my hand hard, then pushed the door open and stepped out. He gave a short nod.
"Thank you, sir."
He clearly knew exactly who this was. But he couldn't let on.
Dominic returned the nod, and his gaze drifted naturally past Cedric toward the back window.
When Cedric got out, the door hadn't latched properly. The wind caught the edge and pulled it open just enough.
I was sitting in the back seat, separated from Dominic by nothing but a pane of glass.
I looked up. Our eyes met.
The exact same look as last time. Not a fraction of difference.
What was meant to come had come. There was no getting around it.
- Writer
