Chapter 4: The flashback
1435 Words
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The headline wouldn’t stop playing in my head.
*BILLIONAIRE CEO'S NEW WIFE HAS A PAST*
Photo: Me. 22 years old. White dress. Crying.
I hadn’t seen that photo in 4 years.
Didn’t know it existed.
“Stop scrolling,” Adrian said.
We were in the car. 7am. Going to the hospital.
He grabbed my phone from my hand.
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“I said give it—”
“Zara.” His voice was sharp. “You don’t need to see that.”
I looked out the window. “Everyone else has.”
He didn’t answer.
At the hospital, my mom was sitting up. Eating jello.
She smiled when she saw us.
Then she saw the ring.
Then she saw Adrian.
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, Zara.”
“Mom, this is Adrian,” I said. “He’s... helping.”
Adrian nodded. “Mrs. Bennett. It’s good to see you.”
My mom looked between us. She knew.
She was there 4 years ago too.
“Can I talk to my daughter alone?” she asked.
Adrian stood. “I’ll be outside.”
The moment the door closed, Mom grabbed my hand.
“Is it real?” she whispered.
“The marriage?” I asked. “No. It’s a contract.”
She sighed. “I was afraid of that.”
“Mom—”
“Did he explain why?”
I shook my head.
“He was going to,” she said. “Four years ago. The night before the wedding.”
My chest went cold. “What?”
---
*FLASHBACK: 4 YEARS AGO. THE HAMPTONS. 11:47PM.*
The church was empty.
White chairs. White flowers.
My dress was hanging in the bridal suite.
I was 22. Stupid. In love.
Adrian was 27. Already running Cole Group.
He was supposed to be here at 10.
Rehearsal dinner.
He didn’t come.
I called. Voicemail.
I texted. _Where are you?_
No answer.
At 11:30, his best man, David, showed up.
Pale. No tie.
“Zara,” he said. “You need to sit down.”
“Where is he?”
David looked at the floor. “His father. Victor. He... he gave him an ultimatum.”
“What kind of ultimatum?”
“Sign the papers. Call off the wedding. Or Victor pulls all funding from the new division. 2000 people lose their jobs by Monday.”
I laughed. “That’s blackmail.”
“I know.”
“Where is Adrian?”
“In his office. In the city. He’s been there since 6.”
“Then let’s go talk to him,” I said. “He wouldn’t do this. Not to me.”
David shook his head. “He already signed, Zara. He called it off.”
The world went quiet.
“What did he say?” I whispered.
“Nothing,” David said. “He just... signed. And left.”
I ran.
Barefoot. In my robe.
To the church.
Because maybe if I was there, he’d show up.
He didn’t.
The photos the next day?
Me on the steps. Alone.
That was the only picture Amber needed.
---
*PRESENT: HOSPITAL ROOM. 8:03AM*
“He never called,” I said to my mom. “Not once.”
“I know, baby,” she said. “But I saw him. A week later. At the hospital. When I had my first checkup.”
I frowned. “What?”
“He was in the waiting room. 3am. Looked like he hadn’t slept.”
She squeezed my hand. “He asked the nurse about me. Asked if I was okay. Left an envelope with $50,000 and no name.”
My throat closed.
“I gave it back,” Mom said. “I didn’t want his money. I wanted him to come to you.”
“He didn’t.”
“I know.”
The door opened.
Adrian.
He looked at me. “Ready?”
I stood up. Didn’t look at him.
---
*9:30am. Cole Group Tower.*
We didn’t talk in the elevator.
Didn’t talk in the office.
At 10am, his assistant knocked.
“Mr. Cole, Victor is here. And he brought legal.”
Victor walked in. With two lawyers.
“Adrian,” Victor said. “We need to discuss the contract.”
“What about it?” Adrian asked.
“It’s invalid,” one of the lawyers said. “Marriage under duress. Financial coercion. We can have it annulled in 48 hours.”
Adrian stood up. Slow.
“Try it.”
“Excuse me?”
“I said try it,” Adrian repeated. “And while you’re at it, explain to the board why the CEO’s father tried to sabotage a $2B merger because he didn’t like who his son married.”
Victor’s face went red. “You ungrateful—”
“Get out,” Adrian said.
Victor left. Slamming the door.
Silence.
Then Adrian looked at me.
“You saw the article,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You saw what Amber posted.”
“Yes.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Zara, I—”
“Don’t,” I said. “Don’t do this here.”
“Where then?”
“Anywhere but here.”
---
*8pm. Penthouse.*
He was waiting.
No suit. Jeans. Black t-shirt.
Looked 27 again.
“I owe you an explanation,” he said.
“I don’t want it.”
“You need it.”
I crossed my arms. “Fine. Talk.”
He paced. “My father found out 3 days before the wedding. He hired a PI. Found out your mom was sick. Even then. Stage 2. He used it.”
My stomach dropped.
“He said, ‘Marry her and I’ll make sure she never gets treatment. I’ll blacklist every hospital in the state.’”
Adrian stopped pacing. “I called 14 hospitals. They all said the same thing. ‘We can’t take her case.’”
“So you left,” I said.
“I thought I was saving you,” he said. “I thought if I disappeared, he’d leave you alone.”
“And did he?”
Adrian looked at the floor. “No. He followed through anyway. Your mom’s insurance got dropped 2 months later.”
I sank onto the couch.
All this time.
All this time I thought he just... didn’t love me enough.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
“Because I was a coward,” he said. “And because by the time I figured out how to fight him, you’d already moved on. Or I thought you had.”
I looked up at him. “I didn’t.”
He froze.
“I didn’t move on, Adrian,” I said. “I just stopped waiting.”
The room was quiet. Just the city outside.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For all of it.”
“I know.”
“Do you forgive me?”
I laughed. Wet. “I don’t know.”
He nodded. “Fair.”
He walked to the window.
“I put $50,000 in your mom’s account that night,” he said. “Anonymous. She gave it back.”
“I know.”
“She’s stubborn.”
“She gets it from me.”
A small smile. His first in days.
Then his phone buzzed.
Amber.
A text. A photo.
Us. Last night. In the dark. Fireplace.
Me asleep on his shoulder.
Caption: `Cute. But contracts expire 😉`
Adrian deleted it.
Didn’t say anything.
“Clause 9,” I said.
“What?”
“No romantic involvement.”
“I know.”
“So what was that?” I pointed at the photo.
He was quiet for a long time.
Then: “I don’t know.”
Honesty. Again.
“Adrian,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“If we do this. The year. We do it for real. No more lies. No more hiding.”
He looked at me. “And after the year?”
“I don’t know that either,” I said.
He nodded. “Deal.”
He held out his hand.
I took it.
His fingers laced with mine.
Not business.
Not contract.
Just... his hand.
“Come on,” he said. “Power’s out again.”
“Again?”
“Again.”
We walked to the master bedroom.
Same bed. Same fireplace.
But this time, when we lay down,
he didn’t wait for me to take the blanket.
He pulled it over both of us.
And this time, when he said “Goodnight, Z,”
I answered.
“Goodnight, Adrian.”
---
- Writer
