Chapter 1

That eight-million-dollar deal I'd bled to secure? My husband's assistant completely messed it up.

But Asher, my husband and also my boss, publicly reprimanded me in front of the entire office.

"If you can't handle the job, Harper, do us all a favor and stay home playing housewife. At least there, your incompetence would be free!"

When we got home, he adopted a chillingly business-like demeanor.

"You were in charge of this project, so you have to take responsibility for ruining it. Even if I'm your husband, I have to handle this fairly! Understand?"

Before I could even respond, his assistant, Chloe, sent me a text.

"Harper, it's all my fault. Asher bought me a cupcake to cheer me up, it was really good! Should I order one for you too?"

A bitter laugh escaped my lips as I glared at Asher.

"Oh, you're so fair and unbiased!"

That night, I called my long-time rival.

"You wanted to be my boyfriend, didn't you?"

One moment, I was submitting my resignation to HR.

The next, I was summoned into Asher's office.

The instant I walked in, a cup of coffee was flung directly at me.

The force of the splash felt like a harsh slap across my face.

It stung.

Beside him, on the plush leather sofa, Chloe sat with red-rimmed eyes, the picture of pitiful misery.

"Asher, don't blame Harper. It's my fault. The deal fell apart on my watch. If anyone should leave, it's me."

Asher's voice trembled with a fury he rarely showed. And it was always because of Chloe.

"Are you so upset about yesterday that you'd storm into HR just to pressure Chloe?"

"As her superior, the failure is your responsibility. How dare you try to pin it all on her?!"

"Do you have any idea what they're saying about her out there? That you couldn't stand the ‘disruptive intern' and were forced out. Get back out there and set the record straight. Now."

I'd thought he was distraught because he was losing me, his girlfriend of seven years. But no, he was just worried that after I left, people would look down on Chloe and give her a hard time.

Chloe continued to sob, pulling out a tissue to blow her nose, then casually tossing the snotty wad onto the other end of the sofa.

Asher's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Three seconds later, he walked over, picked up the tissue, and dropped it into the trash can.

I froze, my heart clenching, a dense ache spreading through my chest.

In the second year of dating Asher, we watched a romantic movie at home.

There was a scene that wrecked me. I cried so hard I couldn't stop, tears and snot streaming down my face.

He pushed me out of his embrace in disgust.

"Sorry, I'm a germaphobe. Please clean yourself up."

Then he walked into the bathroom. I could hear the water running as he scrubbed himself from head to toe, three times over.

As if he'd just touched something vile.

A cold laugh escaped me.

So his germaphobia was selective.

I met Asher's gaze, unwavering.

"I'm resigning because I no longer wish to work here. That's all."

Asher didn't buy it.

"Then why not sooner, or later? Why today? It's obviously about the deal."

"Harper, drop the mind games with Chloe. Or I might just forget we ever had a past."

I sighed. The old urge to argue with him, to defend myself, was gone.

Facing Asher, I felt nothing but a hollow emptiness. There was nothing left to fight with.

He was there when the deal collapsed.

We were on the brink of closing. The client had verbally agreed. Then Chloe barged in, insisting on toasting the CEO.

The CEO was already visibly annoyed.

She chose not to see it. A brand-new intern, pressuring a CEO to drink. I still don't know where she found the nerve.

The CEO's anger was instant. I pulled Chloe back, forcing a smile, my apologies already flowing.

I told her to apologize properly and fix this. Instead, she burst into tears, louder and more dramatic than anyone in the room.

"Harper, why are you so hard on her? Why do you always force me to do things I don't want to do?"

His face had been thunderous that day, murderous. I'd thought it was over the lost deal, a contract that had been within our grasp.

Turns out, it was because I'd made Chloe apologize. Because I'd held her accountable.

I was truly tired.

"This isn't a scene, Asher. We're done."

Ignoring the storm gathering on his face, I gathered the last of my things and walked out of the company.

Back home, I started packing my suitcases again.

Breaking up is such a tedious chore. There's always too much stuff, and it never fits back the way it came.

My hand stilled. Inside the drawer, I found a pair of red stockings that weren't mine.

They were torn to shreds-evidence of a frantic encounter. I tossed them in the trash, snapped a photo, and sent it to Asher.

His texts were still flooding my phone with excuses. I didn't reply. Instead, I dialed a different number.

"That offer to be my boyfriend. I accept."