TH
Chapter 2
The nurse looked surprised to see me alone. “Your husband didn’t come with you this time?”
I had severe allergies. Normally, even a little bit of dust would send Travis into full–blown panic mode, dragging me to the hospital without question.
No exceptions–not even when it meant delaying a shareholders‘ meeting.
I smiled and shook my head. “He’s busy.”
After the injection, the nurses‘ station suddenly buzzed with excitement.
“Oh my God, that man is so hot.”
“Have you ever seen anyone walk into a hospital carrying a massive bouquet of roses and his girlfriend at the same time? One arm for her, one arm for the flowers!”
“Her skin’s just a little red from the burn. If they’d waited any longer, she probably would’ve
healed on her own.‘
My gaze drifted to the window, landing squarely on that extravagant bouquet of vibrant roses.
He was standing there, looking down at his phone.
Ding.
A message from Travis. “Elise, how are you feeling? Any better?”
I looked down again. He’d already slipped his phone away and was now holding the girl’s hand as
they walked off.
Fingers laced together, matching rings gleaming between them like they were made for each other.
I lowered my head and accepted two new friend requests.
Their profile pictures matched Travis’s newly updated one–clearly couple–style. Before that, his
had always been a photo of me.
The younger of the two messaged me right away, not bothering to be polite. “Since you’re already divorced, please move out by the end of the day–and clean up after yourself.”
They didn’t know that, out of guilt, Travis had left eighty percent of his assets to me in the divorce papers–including the villa they were now living in.
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I snapped a picture of the relevant clause and sent it back. “You’ve read the agreement, haven’t
you?”
Silence.
Then my phone rang. “Elise, what kind of wedding theme do you like?”
There wasn’t much I needed to take with me. One suitcase was enough to pack it all.
As I came downstairs, I saw Travis curled up on the sofa–when he’d gotten there, I had no idea.
I got myself some water, grabbed the antacid, and walked over.
Then, without warning, he jumped to his feet and slapped me across the face.
“Elise Whitman, you crossed the line!”
“Who said you could show them our divorce agreement?!”
“I’ve explained this to you a hundred times–they’re just a bit of fun. They don’t change what you mean to me. Once I’ve had my fill, I’ll come back to the family. Why are you being so dramatic?”
“People like us–our kind of status–it’s normal to have a few women on the side. Even your dad
My eyes burned. I glared at him, shaking with rage.
His tone softened. He stepped forward and pulled me into his arms. “And besides, these past years… I’ve only had you. Haven’t you felt how much I love you?”
“Come on, baby. I swear–after this, I’m done for good. I’ll stay with you, only you, for the rest of
my life.”
Back then, that playboy heir had chased me for three whole years. He said I was the only one for
him. He said he’d protect me and my family with his life.
And I believed him.
Now those same words meant nothing. I’d heard them too many times.
I don’t even know when the trust started to wear thin.
Maybe it was the first time one of his mistresses disappeared and he used my work account to post some sickly sweet love confession, just to lure her back–making me a laughingstock in our whole
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social circle.
The next day, the press ambushed me outside the office, flashbulbs blinding me as I stood there completely alone.
Maybe it was on our anniversary–he ditched me for some skydiving stunt to impress a girl, while I
got left behind to be scolded by his family for not keeping my husband safe.
Or maybe it was the day he ignored all one hundred and one of my calls while partying at Disneyland with them–leaving me stranded and begging for help.
