003

Chapter Three

Addie’s POV

Ignorance truly was bliss.

Because the most painful thing about the truth is that once you see or know it, once you feel it carving into your bones, you can never unknow it.

My head knew for a fact that Preston was a liar. It knew that the man I had built my entire twenties around was sleeping with my younger sister.

Yet my heart was a pathetic, stubborn organ that refused to follow the rules. It still clung to the years of routine, desperate to prove that the world hadn't actually ended.

That was why I had packed his favorite smoked salmon wrap at noon, determined to deliver lunch to his law office just like I had done every single week since we started dating in college.

I never made it to his firm.

A delivery truck running a red light had T-boned my sedan at the intersection of 4th and Main, sending metal crunching into my driver-side door.

Now, I was lying on a gurney in the emergency ward, the harsh fluorescent lights blurring above me while medical monitors screamed.

"Her blood pressure is plummeting," a trauma nurse shouted, pressing a wad of gauze against the deep laceration along my left hip. "We need a signature for emergency blood transfusions and surgical clearance right now!"

The attending doctor leaned over me, his mask speckled with red. "Ma'am, you are losing blood too quickly. Is there a spouse or next of kin we can call to authorize the procedure?"

"My... my husband," I sobbed through an oxygen mask, trembling as I handed over my cracked, blood-smeared phone. "Preston. He's on speed dial."

The nurse hit the dial and pressed the speaker button, holding the phone inches from my ear.

The line rang twice before clicking open.

"Preston," I wept, tears mixing with the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. "Preston, please... I was in a terrible car accident. I'm at Saint Mary's Hospital, and they need you to—"

"Addie, for God's sake, not right now," Preston’s voice cut through the receiver, sounding so annoyed. "I told you this morning that the senior partners are reviewing our quarterly portfolios. I am in the middle of a critical meeting. Stop being so dramatic and call an Uber home."

"Preston, I'm bleeding—"

"I have to go. Do not call this line again until five."

Click.

The dial tone rang in the freezing trauma room.

The doctor and nurse exchanged a horrified, uncomfortable glance.

"Ma'am, we need an emergency contact who will actually answer," the doctor said, his voice tightening with urgency. "Do you have family? A sibling?"

"My sister," I gasped, pain shooting through my abdomen like white-hot lightning. "Darcia. Try Darcia."

The nurse tapped her contact and held the phone up again.

Darcia picked up on the fifth ring, the muffled sound of classical music playing softly in her background.

"Darcia?" I cried out, clutching the nurse's scrub sleeve. "Darcia, please help me. I was in a crash. I need someone to sign my hospital paperwork—"

"Oh, Addie," Darcia sighed over the line, her tone smooth and unbothered. "I'm so sorry you're going through whatever drama you're dealing with right now, but I honestly can't come down there. I'm taking care of something extremely important this afternoon."

"Darcia, please, they're taking me into surgery—"

"Just have the nurses handle it, okay? I really have to go."

She hung up.

A hollow, agonizing sound tore from my chest.

Nobody.

I had given my entire life to my husband and my sister, and while I lay dying on a hospital gurney, neither one of them could spare thirty seconds to keep me alive.

"Is there anyone else?" the nurse asked, her eyes desperate as the red stains on the sheet widened.

My mind spun through a haze of gray fog.

Sebastian.

"Call... Sebastian. Sebastian Greene," I whispered, my voice barely a rattle in my throat.

The nurse scrolled through the recent calls, found the number, and pressed dial.

As the first ring echoed against the sterile walls, darkness rushed in from the edges of my vision, pulling me down into silence.

When I finally opened my eyes, the smell of antiseptic filled my nose.

The chaos of the emergency bay was gone. I was lying in a private, recovery room with a warm blanket pulled up to my chin and an IV steadily dripping saline into my arm.

A nurse walked in with a digital clipboard, smiling warmly when she saw me awake.

"You're very lucky, Mrs. Stuart," she said softly.

"Did my husband... did he come?" I asked, my voice dry and cracked.

"No," the nurse answered gently, looking down with sympathy. "A Mr. Sebastian Greene authorized your surgical transfer. He couldn't be here in person because his office stated he was closing an international acquisition across town, but he wired the full private medical deposit within five minutes of the call and had his legal team clear all necessary emergency permissions. He made sure you got the best surgical team in the building."

A strange, warmth settled in my chest.

Sebastian was a ruthless shark, but when my own family threw me away to bleed out, he was the one who answered the phone.

"I need to use the restroom," I murmured, carefully sliding my legs over the edge of the mattress.

"Take it slow," the nurse warned, helping me stand with a rolling IV pole. "You still have stitches along your flank."

I nodded, gripping the metal pole for support as I shuffled out into the corridor, wanting to walk down to the nurse's station to get a glass of water before calling Sebastian to thank him properly.

As I passed the glass partition dividing the VIP maternal wing, a familiar laugh froze me in my tracks.

I turned my head slowly.

Standing right outside the private ultrasound suite was Preston.

He wasn't in a quarterly portfolio meeting. He wasn't locked in a conference room with senior partners like he'd claimed. 

He was holding two extravagant bouquets in his arms—one overflowing with fresh white peonies, and another custom arrangement crafted entirely out of folded hundred-dollar bills.

Darcia was standing beside him, glowing in a pale pink sundress, clutching a black-and-white sonogram printout against her chest.

"Did you hear how loud it was?" Darcia squealed, throwing her arms around Preston's neck. "The doctor said it’s the clearest, strongest heartbeat she’s heard all week!"

Preston laughed, pulling her against his body and kissing her passionately on the mouth right in the middle of the hallway.

"Our baby is going to have everything, Darcia," Preston murmured against her lips, handing her the bouquet of cash with a grin. "I promise you."

My heart didn't break. Nah, it was way past that level. I felt it disintegrate into ash. 

My husband had hung up on my dying cries, left me bleeding on an emergency room, and walked out on my life just to bring flowers and cash to my sister for carrying his child.

The naive, loving wife died right there on that hospital tile floor.

I didn't bother calling them out or anything. What was the use of that? It wouldn't change anything anyway. 

Instead, I turned my back on the sickening sight, pulled my cracked phone from the pocket of my hospital robe, and opened the message thread with Sebastian Greene.

With cold, steady fingers, I typed out the text:

Let's meet as soon as you're free. I want to know exactly what I get out of six months of fooling around with you.

I hit send.