Chapter 2
The next morning at nine a.m., Marcus stepped out of the private elevator into the executive suite of Hale Group headquarters.
Allison intercepted him before he could even take a step toward his office.
"Marcus, have you seen the news?" she asked, her face pale with panic.
He frowned. He despised being called by his first name at work, a rule that even Allison was expected to follow.
"What news?" he clipped out.
She held out her phone. The screen blazed with a lurid headline: [Hale Group CEO's steamy affair exposed: is the mistress poised to oust Mrs. Hale?]
Attached was a photo of him and Allison at a restaurant, shot from an angle that made their business dinner look like a romantic date.
His expression turned to thunder.
"Who did this?" he snapped.
"I have no idea," Allison stammered, chewing on her lower lip. "It's everywhere online. The company's stock is already dropping."
Marcus sneered. Not many people had access to these photos. And whoever did it had timed the leak perfectly, waiting for maximum damage.
His first thought landed on Emily.
Would the wife he had barely acknowledged actually have the guts to stab him in the back?
"Find out who leaked this. Now," Marcus commanded his assistant, Leo Reed, who had materialized at his side.
"And get PR on this immediately. I want it buried."
As Leo scurried away, Marcus strode into his office and slammed the door shut. He dialed the number for his home.
It rang and rang. No one answered.
He tried Emily's cell next. It went straight to voicemail.
A hot surge of anger coursed through him. What the hell was that woman playing at?
Just then, his office door swung open.
A woman glided in, tall and elegant in head-to-toe Chanel. Her hair fell in perfect waves. With flawless makeup, she moved with an innate grace that radiated pure class.
Marcus froze.
"Summer?" he breathed, unable to believe his eyes.
Summer glided over with a radiant smile. "Marcus, I'm back," she said.
It had been three agonizing years. And now, she was finally here.
He shot up from his chair, his arms moving to embrace her before he stopped midway as the cold reality of his situation crashed down on him.
He thought of Emily and their marriage.
"Why are you back?" he said, trying to keep his voice even. "I thought you were building your career overseas."
A flicker of hurt crossed Summer's eyes. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
"No, of course I am," Marcus explained quickly. "I'm just surprised."
Summer closed the distance between them, her fingers moving to straighten his tie. "I'd had enough of being away. I wanted to come home. I heard you got married."
Marcus froze up. This was the one topic he wished he could avoid.
"It was just a business arrangement. Nothing real."
Summer nodded like she'd expected this answer. "Of course. You never were one to fall easily. What's her name?"
"Emily Bennett," he answered.
"Is she pretty?"
Marcus paused. Honestly, Emily was beautiful. Her clear eyes sometimes reminded him of what it felt like to be young and hopeful about love.
But he would never admit that to Summer.
"She's fine," he said coolly. "But she's no you."
Summer smiled, satisfied. "Good. Marcus, I came back because I think it's time. We can finally start over."
His heart should have soared. These were the words he'd imagined for three years.
So why didn't he feel the elation he'd always imagined? Instead, a complicated, unsettling knot formed in his stomach.
"But I'm married," he heard himself say.
"So get a divorce," Summer said, as casual as suggesting they order takeout. "You don't love her. It'd be a relief for both of you."
Marcus was silent.
Divorce should be easy. So why did it feel wrong?
In three years, Emily had never caused problems. She had played the part of his wife quietly and perfectly. It was a loveless marriage, but she had been a flawless wife.
And now he was supposed to just cast her aside for Summer?
"I need time to think," Marcus said.
Summer's expression soured. "What is there to think about? Marcus, don't tell me you've forgotten our promise. You said you would wait for me."
"I haven't forgotten. It's just more complicated now."
Summer scoffed, "Complicated how? Don't tell me you've actually fallen for that woman."
Marcus opened his mouth to deny it, but the words wouldn't come.
Had he really fallen for Emily?
It seemed impossible. They barely spoke. There was no love between them.
So why did the thought of divorcing her leave him with a hollow ache of reluctance?
"I just feel I owe her an explanation," he finally answered.
For a brief second, Summer forced a smile to mask the storm that flickered in her eyes, but her composure swiftly returned.
"Fine. I'll wait to hear from you. But don't keep me waiting too long, Marcus. My patience has its limits."
With that, she turned and swept out of his office.
Marcus slumped back into his chair, feeling totally conflicted.
He should be thrilled. Summer was back. This was what he wanted.
So why did he feel like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to lose something vital?
His phone lit up with a text. It was from Emily: [Marcus, we need to talk.]
He stared at the screen, a chill sliding over him. This conversation might change everything.
The downtown café was all glass and golden evening light.
Emily got there early and took a window seat.
She wore a simple white dress and light makeup, making her look more alive than she had in months.
Marcus pushed through the door and spotted her immediately.
In three years, he realized, he had never really looked at her. She was beautiful in a quiet way that was nothing like Summer's calculated glamour.
"You're here," she said, looking up. The usual timidity in her eyes was gone, replaced by a steely resolve.
Marcus sat across from her and got straight to the point. "The news story. That was you?"
Emily nodded, without a trace of apology. "It was."
Marcus was genuinely surprised. He had expected denials, excuses, or tears.
"Why?" he asked.
Emily's laugh was bitter and broken. "Why? You're seriously asking me why?"
Her voice shook, but her spine stayed straight. "Because I'm tired. I'm so tired of living this lie."
He frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Three years, Marcus. For three years, what was I to you? A piece of furniture? A tool to be used and put away?" Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"I knew you didn't love me. I knew there was someone else. But I never, ever thought you would cheat on me."
Marcus started to form a defense, but Emily held up a hand, silencing him.
"Don't. I know everything. Allison, your secretary. You've been with her for six months. And Summer. She flew in last night, and you put her up in a hotel."