Chapter 2

"Surprised?" I forced a smile, but my eyes landed on Vivian, standing not far away. "Am I interrupting you two?"

Grayson glanced back at Vivian, his brow furrowing. "She's not feeling well. I just gave her a ride to the hospital. Don't overthink it."

"Oh, really?" I said, my eyes fixed on the diamond necklace around Vivian's neck. It was a perfect match for the one Grayson had given me just last month.

I said, "You are quite a considerate boss."

Grayson's expression darkened. "Raven, watch your tone."

His words were like a knife to my heart. Not so long ago, his eyes were filled with nothing but love for me.

Now, all I saw was coldness and warning. I took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears.

I said, "I'll have the driver take me home. I wouldn't want to interrupt your appointment."

As I turned away, the tears finally broke free. I stumbled toward the elevator. Grayson called my name behind me, but I never looked back.

When I got home, I went straight to the guest room and locked the door behind me.

Half an hour later, I heard the front door open, followed by Grayson's footsteps.

"Raven?" He knocked on the guest room door. "Can we talk?"

"There's nothing to talk about," I said, my voice hoarse as I leaned against the door, "I saw everything."

There was a long pause before his voice came through, cold and almost cruel. "Raven, you should know that you'll always be Mrs. Fleming.

"No one can ever take your place. As long as you want it, I'll give you everything you desire."

Even though I'd already guessed it, hearing him admit it out loud still felt like a knife twisting in my heart.

Grayson felt like a complete stranger to me. It was as if a deep, painful rift had split my soul in two.

It was like I'd never really known him at all. I couldn't believe he was capable of saying something like that to me.

I felt that he was no longer the Grayson I knew.

"Why?" I choked out.

He said, his voice carrying a trace of pity, "Because we don't belong in the same world anymore, Raven. You weren't always so ordinary and lost.

"You've changed these past few years. So why can't I change too?"

I threw the door open and screamed at him, "I've supported you all this time, and this is how you repay me?

"What gives you the right to treat me like this? Do you even have a shred of conscience left?"

Grayson stood at the doorway in his suit, his face cold and businesslike. "Raven, be rational.

"Just keep being Mrs. Fleming and you'll still have everything—wealth, comfort, all of it. If you can't accept that, then let's just get a divorce."

"Get out," I snapped, my voice trembling with rage as I pointed at the door, "Get out right now!"

He frowned, tossing out a final line before turning away. "When you've cooled off, we'll talk. I have to work. I won't be back tonight."

As I listened to his footsteps fade and the door click shut behind him, I finally collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

The life growing inside me had already lost its father before it even had a chance to begin.

The love I'd poured my heart into for ten years had all been nothing but a cruel, self-deceiving illusion.

That night, I came down with a high fever.

Half-conscious, it felt like I was back in my college days, seeing Grayson standing out in the rain, that stubborn look in his eyes just like before.

Memories surged like a tide. Back in my junior year of college, I was the head of the Academic Committee in the student union, helping review scholarship applications.

Grayson's name didn't stand out on the long list, but his file was twice as thick as anyone else's.

It included proof of his internship, a welfare certificate for his grandma, perfect grades in every subject, and a handwritten application. His writing almost looked like it was printed.

"Hi there, your application's missing a recommendation letter," I said to him for the first time in the student union office.

He was standing by the window, sunlight gilding his tall, lean silhouette.

He turned, his gaze guarded and distant.

"I don't need a recommendation letter. My grades speak for themselves."

I was caught off guard. Most applicants were humble, even a little timid, but Grayson was different. His pride was like armor he'd been born with.

I noticed the collar of his white shirt was frayed, but the cuffs were buttoned perfectly, and his faded jeans were spotless and crisp.