Chapter 2

Carter was standing just two steps behind her.

A half-burned cigarette was pinched between his fingers.

His brows furrowed slightly.

He looked as if he hadn't expected the words "stepping down" to actually come out of my mouth.

"I got them right?"

The girl’s smile was still plastered on her face, her brain failing to process what was happening.

I shook my head. "You got every single one wrong."

She blinked. Her eyes were bright, but filled with insolence:

"Didn't you say I had to get them right for you to leave?"

"Wait, is it because..."

Her hand slowly drifted down, resting over her flat stomach. "You know you can't compete with me anymore?"

My gaze followed her movement, landing on her flat belly.

Last winter, I found a photo on Carter's phone.

In the neon-lit VIP room of a private club, a young girl was leaning heavily on his shoulder.

He had explained it away easily: "She's just a business partner's daughter. We had a drink."

Then, he had pinned me against the sofa. "Evelyn, you are the only Mrs. Sterling I will ever have in this lifetime. The others? They're just toys."

"I would never let them carry my child. You don't have to worry about that, okay?"

...

Another empty promise, as expected.

The platinum band scraped against my knuckle, feeling uncomfortably tight.

I had worn it for seven years. It had left a deep, pale indentation in my skin.

I placed the ring on the glass table.

Hailey glanced at the ring, her lips curling upward. "Are you really taking it off?"

"Look, if you don't want to give him up, don't. Making such a dramatic scene is just embarrassing."

Carter lowered his hand, letting the cigarette ash fall onto the dark hardwood floor.

"Are you done throwing your tantrum?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience.

I stood up, grabbed my coat from the back of the chair, and walked right past him.

"Evelyn," Carter called out.

I stopped.

He walked up behind me, spun me around by the shoulder, and gripped my chin with his thumb and forefinger.

He wasn't looking at his wife. He was looking at a subordinate who had suddenly stopped obeying orders.

"The door is right there. Walking out is easy," he said, his voice dropping. "But walking back in is hard. Think carefully."

I looked down at his hand.

His fingers were long and well-defined, his skin warm.

I had held this hand for seven years. I had been terrified of letting it go.

From the early days of his startup when he stayed up all night rewriting business proposals, to the day Sterling Group went public.

From his very first affair to this young girl who had finally broken my spirit.

For seven years, after every fight, every silent treatment, and every time I slammed the door and left, I was always the one who crawled back.

He only ever had to stand in place and wait.

Wait for me to calm down. Wait for me to swallow my own humiliation and pretend nothing happened.

He knew I suffered from severe codependency. He knew I was emotionally paralyzed without him.

To avoid losing him, I had spent years playing the fool.

But now, all the strength had drained out of me. I gently pulled away from his grip. "I’ve thought it through."

He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly spoke: "Then lay it out. Make it make sense."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Those three questions. She got them all wrong. Why are you giving up your spot?"

I lowered my eyes.

This was the first time he had ever demanded an explanation.

But at this point, this conversation, those three questions—none of it mattered anymore.

I let out a dry laugh. "Well, I can't exactly let your baby be born illegitimate, can I?"

He froze.

"Just because of that?"

"Yes," I nodded. "Just because of that."

Even though it was just a wild guess based on her rubbing her stomach to show off.

But at least, it was a clean, undeniable reason to end this.

The man looked down, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. The crease between his brows smoothed out.

Now that he had a logical explanation, he didn't mind acting generous:

"You're being much more sensible than I expected."

"I'll give you the estate upstate. Move there first."

"Hailey needs a quiet place to take care of the pregnancy, and you'll get some peace and quiet over there. I’ll come visit you whenever I have time."

I said nothing, turned around, and walked out.

Behind me, the girl’s high-pitched, whiny voice drifted through the door:

"Carter, what did she mean by that? Those questions were so simple. I’m so smart, how could I have gotten them wrong?"

"And I don't want people saying I only got to be with you because of the baby!"

The man let out a low, indulgent chuckle. He pinched her nose playfully. "How about the baby got to be born rich because of you? Does that work?"

Amidst her giggles, my hand gripped the brass doorknob.

The cold air of the hallway hit my face.

My heart went entirely numb.