Chapter 1

I brought up the divorce with Carl Nichols the moment he walked through the door.

He froze, then turned around with a helpless smile. "Is this about the spaghetti I made with cilantro that day?"

I zipped up my suitcase and nodded nonchalantly. "Yeah, that's it."

He hung up his coat and ruffled my hair. "Sweetheart, what are you up to? I was just busy and forgot, it was an accident."

He reached out, trying to pull me into his arms like he always did. "How about I make it up to you? Flowers? That new bag you've been eyeing? Or maybe the latest necklace?"

After seven years of marriage, he'd always been generous with me, and he was sure I'd never leave him.

But I stepped back, looking at his handsome face with a calm expression. "That's it. I left the divorce papers on the table. Don't forget to sign them."

I didn't want a man who couldn't even remember I was allergic to cilantro.

"So, you're really upset just because I put cilantro in your spaghetti the day I got back from that business trip?" Carl said, his face showing that familiar mix of helplessness and fond affection.

He came closer and gently ruffled my hair. "Sweetheart, I honestly just forgot. I was swamped, and it slipped my mind. I swear it won't happen again, okay?"

His voice was soft, his gaze full of warmth, just like it always was. That gentle patience was exactly what drew me to him. We'd walked through seven years together, climbing from entry-level jobs to running the company, moving from a cramped rental to a sprawling villa.

For a long time, I really believed we'd always stay this way.

But in the end, that tenderness wasn't just for me.

I gripped the handle of my suitcase and walked past him. "That's it. I'm leaving. The divorce papers are on the counter. Don't forget to sign them."

"Teri!" Carl grabbed my wrist. "Come on, don't be like this. I was wrong, okay? Let me make it up to you. How about 99 red roses? Or that new gemstone necklace from Douglas Group?"

His words were sincere, but there was a casual confidence in his voice. He stepped closer, his body heat radiating, arms reaching out to pull me into his embrace. "After all these years, you're still throwing tantrums like a kid?"

I yanked my wrist free with so much force that he actually stumbled back. He stared at me in shock, and I stared right back, enunciating every word. "I've never liked red roses. What I love is tulip."

Carl's eyes flickered, and his body went stiff. "Teri, I'm sorry, I..."

Before he could finish, the door beeped as someone unlocked it with their fingerprint, and Bridget Savage walked right in.

Her pretty face registered surprise, but when she spotted my suitcase, something calculating flickered in her gaze. Bridget was Carl's secretary.

She chirped. "Teri, are you heading out on a business trip? Go ahead, I'll look after Mr. Nichols for you. Don't worry about a thing."

I snorted and shot Carl a look. "Looks like the red rose lover's here. and the cilantro fan, too."

I yanked my hand free and dragged my suitcase toward the door.

But Bridget blocked my way, her face half-hidden in the entryway shadows. Her voice sounded all sweet and pitiful, but the smugness in her eyes gave her away.

She said, "Teri, I heard Mr. Nichols put cilantro in your spaghetti the morning he left for Pezelands. Is that really what made you upset with him?"

Her long lashes fluttered, and her pretty eyes shone with fake innocence and a hint of mockery. "Maybe Mr. Nichols just mixes things up because he eats with me a lot, and I'm obsessed with cilantro. It's honestly such a tiny thing.

"If this is messing things up for you guys, I'll say sorry, alright? Don't storm out just to make a point to Mr. Nichols. He's got so much on his plate, and you throwing a fit just makes things harder for him. You..."

Before Bridget could finish, my palm landed hard across her cheek, the sound echoing through the room. Carl rushed over and yanked me back. "Teri! What the hell are you doing? Why are you getting others involved in our marriage?"

I let out a cold, mocking laugh, then swung my hand and landed a slap on him, shutting him up instantly.

Both slaps were full force, leaving bright, burning marks on their cheeks.

I met Carl's stunned gaze head-on. "Carl, this is our home. Who said you could give someone else fingerprint access so they can just waltz in whenever they want?"

Carl hesitated, thrown off. "Bridget brings me paperwork all the time. It's just more convenient that way..."

I laughed bitterly. "So that's what you call your secretary? Pretty intimate. You've been in the business world for years. Don't tell me you can't hear the provocation in her tone.

"It's one thing to keep things ambiguous at work, but you actually let her parade around in front of me? Carl, did you forget I don't put up with this kind of nonsense?"

I turned to Bridget, who was still clutching her cheek. "Bridget, you've been around for half a year now.

"Still can't tell work from personal boundaries? Just barging into someone else's home. What are you, a stray dog hoping to get adopted?"