Chapter 1

Five years after our divorce, my ex-husband, William Grant, walked into my flower shop to order a bridal bouquet for his new wedding.

He said, "My wife loves Juliet Roses. I'd like to order 9,999 stems.

"For the bridal bouquet, use Poselina Roses. My wife is bold and dazzling. These blooms are made for her."

These were rare, costly flowers. Catching sight of the Patek Philippe watch on William's wrist, the assistant was green with envy and said, "Sir, you really know about flowers."

William paused for a second, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Someone I knew a long time ago taught me."

Misunderstanding his words, my assistant sighed enviously. "Your wife must be the luckiest woman in the world."

Lucky? I let out a bitter laugh. The nightmare of the psych ward came rushing back.

I rolled up my sleeves and carried a potted plant into the shop. The moment William saw my face, his entire body went rigid. "Charlotte, what are you doing here? Are you following me again?"

Before I could answer, his gaze fell upon the dense, centipede-like scars covering my wrist, and his face went pale with shock.

"What happened to your hand? Let me see..." he said, reaching toward me.

I ripped my arm away. Then I stepped back, fast.

Smiling politely yet coldly, I said, "Mr. Grant, you're mistaken. I work here. Congratulations on your new marriage, by the way. May you and your wife have a long and happy life together."

I brushed my finger over the lingering ring mark, my blessing genuine and quiet. After all, I was remarried, too. All those old grievances and memories had faded, water under the bridge.

William's lips pressed thin at my words. "Charlotte," he said quietly, "you haven't changed a bit."

I froze for a moment. Then it hit me what he meant.

William and I were childhood sweethearts, and he spoiled me so much that I turned into a total drama queen.

Back in college, he was the star forward on the basketball team. He played with wild abandon, sweat glistening on his skin, and he was drop-dead gorgeous out there.

After every game, girls would swarm around him, all wanting to hand him water. But tall, athletic William would dodge the crowd and head straight for me. "Where's my water?"

I'd give him my best deadpan stare, acting like I couldn't care less to get under his skin. "Right there," I said. "Looks like you've got options."

William would freeze for a second, then cup my face in both hands and plant a showy kiss on my cheek. "Charlotte," he grinned, "you're dripping with jealousy."

I had him wrapped around my little finger. I could throw a jealous fit over anyone who so much as glanced his way, and he'd let me win every single time.

But everything changed when Sophia Hart entered the picture. She was William's assistant. I heard that at a business dinner, some creep from a partner company tried to get handsy with Sophia.

William, who was always ice-cold to outsiders, snapped that night in a way no one had ever seen. He hurled his glass straight at the guy, whiskey and shards of glass flying everywhere.

By the next day, the gossip was all over the city. And it didn't take long to reach my ears. Sophia, overflowing with gratitude, gave him a tie. It was a cheap tie, the kind that reeks of cloying, sugary perfume.

It stood out like a sore thumb among all the designer ties I'd given William, yet he'd placed it right where everyone could see it. like I'd done a thousand times before, I threw a jealous fit, certain he'd still cave for me.

But for the first time ever, William gave me a cold look. He rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. "Charlotte, aren't you tired of this? The constant drama?

"I've been in meetings all day. The last thing I need is to come home to your baseless interrogations. I'm exhausted."

I stared at him. My mind couldn't process what he was saying.

My gaze traced that familiar face, seeking the boy whose eyes once held nothing but warmth. But now, all I saw was a coldness I'd never seen in him before.

To be honest, I'd never doubted William before. But that day, I felt real panic clawing at my chest. As if I had to prove something, I lunged for that tie. Scissors in hand, I ripped it apart like I'd lost my mind.

William didn't stop me. He stood there, watching me unravel with a calm that felt worse than any slap. "You're beyond help," he said.

Then he grabbed his suit jacket, and the door slammed behind him so hard the sound seemed to crack right through my chest. The funny thing was, I didn't realize it until then.

Some things had already changed beyond control. How stupid I'd been. I lowered my eyes, and it sank in.

William probably thought I was the same girl he'd always known, the one who said one thing but meant another. But what he didn't realize was that I'd matured a long time ago.

My gaze fell on the wedding ring I'd removed at the front desk, afraid the dirt from the flowers might stain it. I was already remarried.

The person I cared about was no longer him.

*****

William's order was more than a thousand dollars. I worked late with my assistant to get everything prepared.

She kept chattering beside me, "I knew I'd seen that handsome guy somewhere. So I looked him up and guess what. He's like one of the biggest entrepreneurs in the city. And he's crazy about his wife.

"Oh, and you know that auction a while back? That vintage gemstone ring? Over three million dollars, and he didn't even bat an eye. He swiped his card like it was nothing.

"A man who cares enough to pick out his own wedding flowers. God, can you imagine being Mrs. Grant? She must be the happiest woman alive."

My hand paused as I slipped on my coat. I let out a wry smile. "That's nothing."

Over three million? William used to shower me with gifts worth way more than that. I'd lost count. But in the end, I was forced out with nothing.