Chapter Two
1207 Words
EVERLY'S POV
Chloe pulled back from the hug first, her hands sliding down to rest flat against Kian's chest. She looked up at him, scanning his face like she was checking for damage.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm fine," Kian said, and he was smiling — actually smiling.
I sat quietly at the end of the table, my fork still in my hand, watching a stranger touch my husband like he was hers.
Kian's eyes flicked to me. Just for a second. Long enough for me to see the flash of irritation cross his face.
"Let's talk in my study," he said to Chloe, already turning.
"Sure." She looped her arm through his without asking.
He didn't introduce me.
I hadn't showered, my hair was still knotted from sleep, and I was wearing yesterday's blouse. Whoever she was, he clearly wasn't ready to introduce the woman slumped at the far end of his breakfast table as his wife.
The doors shut behind them.
I sat there for a full minute, staring at the space where he'd been standing.
I finished the food on my plate, and then I stood and walked straight for the study.
Derek's eyes widened when he saw me coming.
"Mrs. Sterling, I'm sorry, but Mr. Sterling is in a meeting right now—"
"I'm his wife, Derek. Move."
"I really have to insist—"
"I'll take responsibility," I said, and brushed past him.
I pushed the door open without knocking.
Then I froze.
Kian was leaning against his desk, laughing.
A real laugh. I hadn’t heard him laugh like this since our wedding day.
Chloe sat on the arm of his chair, leaning close to him, her fingers adjusting his collar like she had every right to touch him.
His laugh stopped the second his eyes met mine.
Chloe turned slowly, scanning me from head to toe. Her gaze lingered on my bare feet, my messy hair, and my wrinkled clothes. She didn't look startled. She didn't look guilty.
She looked entirely amused.
"Who is she, Kian?" she asked, tilting her head.
"That's Everly," he said. His voice was cold enough to freeze the air in the room.
The words hit me like a physical blow. No introduction as his wife. No mention of our marriage. Just my name, tossed out like an annoying piece of trash.
"Oh." A small, knowing smile curved Chloe's lips. "I can give you two a minute, Kian, if you need to talk."
She started to slide off the desk, but Kian’s hand closed firmly around her elbow.
“Stay,” he said quietly. “She’s leaving.”
He looked back at me, and whatever warmth he had shared with Chloe vanished instantly. What replaced it was pure disgust.
“Apologize to my guest”
For a second, I thought I had misheard him.
I felt a knot in my stomach. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to remind him that I was his wife, that I had every right to stand in this room.
But looking at the icy wall in his eyes, I lowered my gaze to the floor, swallowing the last of my pride. "I'm sorry," I said.
He held my gaze a moment longer, like he was making sure I meant it, then gave one small nod.
"Good. Get out."
I turned before the tears could fall in front of her.
The door shut behind me with a dull, final thud.
I kept walking until my legs gave out somewhere in the alcove halfway down the hall. I pressed my back against the wall and covered my face with both hands, and I let myself cry, quietly.
A few minutes later the study door opened again. I stepped further into the shadow of the alcove before they could see me.
Kian came out beside her, her coat draped over his arm, a small, ordinary gesture he had never once done for me, not even the morning after our wedding when it had been raining.
"Dinner tomorrow?" Chloe asked, looking up at him.
"I'll have Derek clear my schedule," he said.
They walked past the alcove. His eyes caught mine in the dark for half a second. I was still crying. I know he saw it.
But he looked away.
"Just ignore her," he said to Chloe, and offered her his arm, and the elevator doors closed on both of them like I had never been standing there at all.
When I finally pushed myself upright, the study door was still open. Derek was inside, back to me, sliding folders into the tall filing cabinet against the far wall.
"Derek."
He startled, nearly dropping the stack in his hands. "Mrs. Sterling. I thought you'd gone upstairs."
"Who is Chloe to him?"
He hesitated, his eyes darting away. "You'd have to ask Mr. Sterling that."
"I'm asking you
Before he could answer, the head maid entered the hallway.
"Mrs. Sterling," She looked terrified. "Mr. Sterling asked that you get the groceries."
"What?"
"That was what he said, ma'am."
I stared at her. The words didn't make sense. Groceries? In this house? We had a full kitchen staff, a personal chef, three people whose entire job was to make sure Kian never ran out of anything.
"Where am I supposed to go?" I asked, my voice flat.
"I’ll go with you," the maid whispered quickly, looking around to make sure Derek wasn't listening. "Please just don't tell him I came along."
I shook my head. If I didn't get out of this house right now, I was going to scream. "No. You don't need to."
The driver was waiting by the garage when I came down. He didn't look at me when I got in.
"Where to, ma'am?" he asked, already knowing.
" Fifth Market," I responded.
The ride was short. At the checkout, my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
I stared at it.
Then I opened it.
You look tired in that sweater. He treating you okay?
The air stopped in my chest.
I looked up, scanning the store. Nothing. Just people with carts, people with phones, people living their lives.
Another message came through before I could respond.
He wasn't waiting 10 years to reconcile with you. He already had Chloe
My hands started to shake.
The cashier was waiting. I paid, grabbed the bag, and walked out so fast I nearly dropped the groceries on the pavement.
The driver opened the door for me when I got back to the car. I climbed in and sat there, staring at the phone in my lap.
Who is this? I typed.
Someone who knows why he really married you. Check the photos I sent.
I scrolled up. There was an attachment I hadn't noticed before. I tapped it.
The image loaded slowly.
It was a picture of Kian. Younger, maybe nineteen, standing in front of a house I recognized — my family's old summer place. He was holding someone's hand.
Not mine.
The girl beside him had long dark hair and a smile I'd seen before.
Chloe.
My phone buzzed again in my trembling palm.
He was two-timing with you back then, and even now. Wake up, Everly.
- Writer
