Chapter 2

When I finished showering and came out of the bathroom, Xavier was back.

He sat on the sofa with his head down, smoking—he'd probably been at it for a while, as the living room was filled with smoke.

I paused while drying my hair, suddenly feeling this scene overlapped with three years ago.

That was the day before our divorce.

He smoked one cigarette after another until they nearly filled the entire ashtray.

Finally, through the swirling smoke, he handed me the divorce papers with a cold, resolute expression.

I walked forward somewhat stiffly, smiled, and took the cigarette from his mouth. "Stop smoking. It's bad for your health."

Xavier looked up, his eyes filled with emotions I couldn't read.

I forced a smile. "Don't worry, I haven't misunderstood anything about you and Bridget."

"If you say she's a client, then she's a client."

"You already had plans with her. It was right to let her sit in your passenger seat and drive her home. I was the unexpected one."

"Don't worry. I won't cause trouble for her."

I was considerate and understanding, thinking from Xavier's perspective.

But somehow, Xavier still wasn't happy. His lips pressed into a line, his expression dark.

I grew anxious, almost panicked, telling him, "If you want to bring Miss Sullivan back here, I don't mind either."

"If she finds me bothersome, I can move out too..."

"Enough!"

Xavier suddenly snapped, cutting off the rest of my words.

He gripped my hand tightly, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at me:

"If you're so gentle and considerate, why don't you just give up your position as Mrs. Harper!"

I bit my lip, enduring the pain in my wrist, and looked at Xavier. "Then would you stop paying for my mother's medication?"

Xavier's eyes widened.

Not getting an answer, I asked again, unwilling to give up. "If I give up this position, will you still cover my mother's medical expenses?"

"Xavier, I can give it up—as long as you keep paying for my mother's medication. Will you?"

Xavier's pupils contracted sharply. He suddenly flung my hand away and stood up from the sofa with a violent motion.

He stared at me intently, not missing any expression on my face.

I wasn't lying.

It was all true.

I could give my position to Bridget.

Really.

Xavier seemed to see something in my face. He laughed bitterly. "And you say you haven't misunderstood?"

He came over again, took my hand, and rubbed the spot he'd just gripped red:

"Bridget is just my client. I'm not lying to you. Really."

"Vienna, don't be jealous for no reason. It's annoying. You know I'm not in the mood to humor you."

I looked down at the spot he'd rubbed, wanting to say I wasn't jealous.

But it seemed pointless.

So I didn't argue. I simply nodded along with what Xavier said. "Okay. I understand."