Chapter 3

But before she could react, I gestured toward Vivian and made the introduction. "Let me introduce you. This is Vivian Grant, the new face of our Free Water line."

I smiled at Vivian. "Ms. Hayes is older than you. You can call her ma'am."

Only then did Vivian let go of my hand. She stood and shook Ciara's. "I've heard so much about you... ma'am."

A quick shake, then done.

Once Ciara sat back down, an unmistakable irritation clouded her face.

She glanced at Vivian, then at me, and knit her brows. "You two look pretty familiar with each other."

A faint smile played on my lips. "She's fine. She knows her limits."

A lot more than the trash she had picked up.

The dinner ended on a strange note.

The night air was cold when we stepped out of the club.

Ciara glanced at Neil, then at me. "Sean, I'm going to drive Neil home first. He lives pretty far from here."

She paused, then added, "Don't read into it. I'll be back soon."

I smiled at her. "I trust you."

Ciara paused.

I was smiling, but something was missing from that smile.

She hesitated, like she wanted to say something. In the end, she left anyway.

I stood there, watching their taillights disappear into the night.

The smile slowly slipped off my face.

That night, Ciara didn't come home.

She only sent one message: [Something urgent came up at the office. I'm not coming back tonight.]

Lucky for me, I wasn't waiting up.

I didn't expect her to call the next day.

"I want those steamed pork ribs you sent over last time. Can you have Martha bring some again today?" Ciara asked.

Her tone was casual, even a little playful.

After a few seconds of silence, I said yes.

Once the ribs were done, I packed them into an insulated container and had Martha take them over.

Then I turned around and realized I'd forgotten one of the dishes.

I hesitated, then decided to bring it over myself.

The door to Ciara's office wasn't fully shut.

I hadn't even reached it when I heard laughter drifting out.

"I said I wanted it, and you actually got Sean to cook it for me." Neil's voice grated on my ears.

"Didn't I tell you? Whatever you want, I'll make it happen." Ciara's voice carried that indulgent tone I once knew so well.

I stood at the door, looking through the crack.

Neil was sitting in Ciara's chair, the food I'd made spread out in front of him. He was eating happily.

Ciara stood beside him, looking down at him with a smile at the corner of her mouth.

I stood there, feeling every drop of blood drain out of me.

The voices inside kept going.

But I couldn't make them out anymore.

I turned and walked away fast. Fast enough that I was almost running.

Once I was out of the Hayes Group building, I pulled out my phone and called Vivian. "Where are you?"

"On set," Vivian said.

"I'm coming to you now."

*****

I don't know when I started crying.

Maybe all the hurt I'd swallowed for too long had finally found a way out.

The curtains in Vivian's dressing room were drawn tight.

Her scent wrapped around me. The perfume she wore was the one I'd picked out for her, a cool floral note, understated but lasting.

I gripped her waist, lost in her, and still a single tear slipped down my face.

It wasn't hatred for Ciara. It was hatred for myself. For still hurting because of her.

Vivian looped her arms around my neck and gently kissed the tear from the corner of my eye.

We both froze.

In the second our eyes met, something silent detonated in the air between us.

But we both chose to ignore it, without needing to say a word.

We only held each other tighter, and let the heat pull us deeper.

Early the next morning, I opened my eyes.

I hadn't come home all night, and there wasn't a single message from Ciara on my phone.

I closed my eyes for a moment. My voice came out rough. "I should go."

Vivian turned her head to look at me. She didn't try to keep me there. She just gave a soft hum.

When I got home and pushed the door open, Ciara was sitting in the living room.

The moment she saw me, she stood up and came over, her tone laced with open resentment. "What have you been so busy with lately? I've come home a few times now and you weren't here."

I looked at her face.

At the crease between her brows, at the flicker of impatience in her eyes. She was actually standing there, questioning me like she had every right to.

I suddenly thought of the excuses she'd fed me back when she first started her affair.

All those "working late," "client dinners," "just exhausted."

The words came out before I could think. "Working, obviously. You know how it is. A company doesn't run itself. There's always overtime, always clients to entertain."

Ciara choked on her reply.

Her mouth opened, then closed. She wanted to push back but didn't know where to start. In the end, all she managed was, "You still need to rest."

Watching her like that, I found it laughable. And a little sad.

The line worked so well. No wonder she'd loved using it.

Just as I was thinking that, Ciara shifted gears. "My assistant said you came by the office yesterday. Why didn't you come find me?"