Chapter 2

The next evening, Oliver appeared unusually attentive as he fastened his cufflinks in our bedroom mirror. I watched him, still searching for glimpses of the man I'd left behind three years ago.

"Eden," he said, catching my reflection in the mirror. "I need a favor."

I straightened, eager to be useful. To matter. "Anything."

"My regular driver called in sick, and I have an important business dinner tonight." He turned, his expression softening into something that almost resembled the Oliver I remembered. "Would you mind driving me?"

"Of course," I agreed immediately. "I'd love to help."

A small smile played at his lips. "You always were too good to me."

The words warmed me, a reminder of why I'd fallen for him in the first place. Maybe things would be different now that I was back. Maybe we could rebuild what we'd lost during my absence.

"I'll just be glad to spend time with you," I admitted, reaching for my coat.

Two hours later, I navigated through Manhattan's upscale district, the streets gleaming under elegant streetlights. Oliver directed me with casual confidence, his hand resting lightly on my thigh—a gesture that once would have made my heart race. Now it felt hollow, performative.

"Turn right at the next corner," he instructed. "We're meeting investors at Le Ciel."

Le Ciel. One of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, where reservations were made months in advance. Of course Oliver would choose somewhere impressive for his business dinner.

"Here's fine," he said as we approached the entrance, its golden lights spilling onto the sidewalk where valets in crisp uniforms waited. "Just... wait in the car for a moment. I need to make a quick call before we go in."

I nodded, putting the car in park but leaving the engine running. Through the windshield, I watched him step onto the sidewalk, phone already at his ear, his expression shifting to something I couldn't quite read.

Minutes passed. Five. Ten. I checked my watch, wondering what could be taking so long. Then movement in the side mirror caught my eye.

A woman emerged from a sleek black car that had pulled up behind us. Even in the dim light, I recognized her immediately—Faye Shaw, from the photographs. Her blonde hair cascaded over bare shoulders, her dress clinging to every curve as she strode purposefully toward our car.

Before I could process what was happening, she slid into the backseat beside Oliver, who had somehow materialized from the restaurant entrance.

"About time," she murmured, her voice carrying through the open partition between the front and back seats.

I froze, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I stared straight ahead, unable to turn around but unable to escape what I saw in the rearview mirror.

Oliver's arm wrapped around Faye's waist, pulling her against him. Their faces met in a kiss that spoke of familiarity, of passion—the kind that comes from practice, not pretense.

"Did you tell her?" Faye asked against his mouth.

"Later," he murmured, his hands sliding lower. "Right now, I just want to feel you."

I watched in horrified fascination as their embrace deepened, his fingers tangling in her hair while hers worked at the buttons of his shirt. The intimacy between them was unmistakable—this wasn't just a fling. This was something deeper.

"Oliver," I whispered, though I knew he couldn't hear me over their labored breathing.

Unable to bear another moment, I reached for the keys to start the car—anything to break the spell of this nightmare. The engine roared to life.

"What are you doing?" Oliver's voice cut through sharply as he pulled away from Faye, his eyes flashing angrily in the mirror.

"I'm sorry," I stammered. "I thought—"

"Just drive," he ordered, his tone cold and commanding. "Take us to the penthouse on East 78th."

I pulled away from the curb, hands shaking so badly I could barely control the car. In the mirror, I watched them rearrange their clothing, Faye shooting me a triumphant smirk.

"Is she always this clueless?" Faye whispered to Oliver, loud enough for me to hear.

He sighed heavily. "She's becoming such a burden lately."

My heart clenched painfully in my chest.

"I'm tired of pretending to care about someone so pathetic," he continued, his voice dropping to a cruel murmur that somehow reached my ears despite the road noise. "It's exhausting."

Faye's laugh was like broken glass. "Then let's speed up the timeline. How much longer until we can get rid of her for good?"

I gripped the wheel tighter, tears blurring the streetlights into streaks of gold as their words cut deeper than any knife could reach.