Chapter 1
Henry has a thing for virgins.
So when he brought his kept woman to me for another hymen repair, the girl didn't bother hiding her smirk. "I heard you two have been married five years, and he's never touched you?"
Her voice dripped with smugness. "We've only known each other for ten days, and he was already losing his mind over me. He'd rather send me here to get fixed again than lay a finger on you."
I didn't flinch. I just went through the motions, like always, asking about her symptoms.
I sat there completely calm the whole time, letting them ramble on about how many different positions they'd tried in bed.
What she didn't know was that, before her, I'd performed exactly ninety-nine of these exact same surgeries for Henry's kept women.
There was a time I'd lost my cool over this. I'd screamed and cried and thrown a fit right in front of him.
All I got in return was a cold, mocking laugh. "Be good, Amanda. Would your dad actually let you divorce me?
"Just sit back and enjoy being a rich wife. When I'm done playing around, I'll come home. That's all you need to worry about."
When they wheeled the girl into the operating room, Henry stepped in front of me to block my path.
"Make it look nice. She cares a lot about how it looks."
When I didn't answer, he smiled that easy, infuriating smile of his and tucked a bank card right into my scrubs against my chest.
"Payment for your trouble."
This time, I didn't blow up. I just tucked the card away neatly, no fuss, no fight.
He'd forgotten, the deadline we'd written into our prenuptial agreement was already here.
I didn't have to wait around anymore for a man who never came home.
*****
Once the operation was over, I dialed a number I hadn't called in ages. "Grandpa, I got the ticket details you sent. Thank you."
"Amanda, I'm so happy you're coming home."
I hung up, and Henry was suddenly standing right behind me. I hadn't heard him approach at all.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket, dropped my gaze, and tossed out a lazy lie. "A telemarketer."
He was already staring down at his own screen, so he just hummed a half-hearted "okay" and didn't think twice about it.
A second later, he held his phone out toward me. "What do you think of this bracelet?"
I recognized it immediately. I'd flipped through a fashion magazine a while back and circled this exact design myself.
For a split second, my heart softened. I couldn't believe he'd actually remembered.
Then he smiled and said, "I bet Linda will love this, right?"
I froze for a second, then nodded slowly. "It's beautiful. She'll definitely like it."
Maybe it was because I'd been so uncharacteristically calm this time that Henry, for the first time in forever, offered to drive me home after my shift.
"Linda is still sleeping, so I can drop you off first."
We'd been married five years, and this was the first time I'd ever ridden in his personal car. Only the wedding limo before this.
I reached out to adjust the passenger seat, but Henry pinned my hand in place to stop me. "Amanda, sit in the back, okay?"
"Linda's got a terrible temper. If she finds out someone else sat in her spot, she'll throw a huge fit with me."
A doting, soft smile spread across his face as he said it.
I stared blankly for a beat, then slid into the backseat without a fuss.
A tiny pink blanket was draped casually over the black leather passenger seat, and it looked totally out of place with his whole vibe.
You could still catch a whiff of Linda Brown's perfume lingering on the fabric.
Henry caught my gaze in the rearview mirror and chuckled. "She's young, that's all. Young girls love all that cute pink stuff."
I dropped my gaze, and my mind drifted back to when I'd first married him. I was exactly that same age back then.
On our wedding night, he'd seen me in my pink silk nightgown and smiled that lazy, uncaring smile,
"Amanda, I don't like pink.
"And you're not the type of woman I want, either. Not touching you is me doing you a favor."
