Chapter 4

Before the launch began, the assistant delivered a suit with shoulders an inch too narrow.

The tag bore Jayden's name. It was one he had tried on and decided he didn't want.

I didn't wear it. Instead, I put on my own dark suit, the one I'd bought three years earlier, with cuffs already showing a little wear.

Lynette smoothed my lapels. "Don't bring up the design credit tonight. Don't mention your mother's hospital stay either. Investors don't like founding teams with complicated family matters."

In the mirror, I watched her stand before me and patiently adjust my suit as she always did.

For a moment, I almost wanted to believe again that she simply cared too much about her career.

Then Jayden pushed open the door. He wore the custom suit from the Glimmer collection's lead show, with my mother's pendant hanging at his collar.

"Ms. Kensington, the media has arrived," he said.

Lynette smoothed the last wrinkle from my suit and stepped back half a pace. "Harold, sit in the second row. If reporters ask, just say you've always supported Jay's work."

I turned to face her. "Those designs are mine."

"You already signed the authorization."

"I authorized their use. I didn't give up my credit."

Jayden drew a quiet breath. "Maybe we should just make your name public tonight. Even if the brand has to pull the exhibit at the last minute and the investors come after us, I don't want you to feel wronged."

Lynette looked at me, and her tone turned cold. "Are you satisfied now?"

Those four words landed like a slap.

I didn't argue any further.

…

Halfway through the launch, the host invited Jayden onto the stage. The big screen displayed 24 pieces of jewelry, one after another. Every single one came from my sketches.

The last piece to appear was a brooch called Homecoming. I had designed it after my father died.

Lynette had once held me and told me we would never sell it. We would save it for our future child.

Onstage, Jayden smiled and said, "Homecoming was a gift from Ms. Kensington. She told me a man can live without a marriage, but not without a name of his own."

Applause broke out.

Lynette sat in the front row and gazed up at him.

I hadn't seen that kind of admiration from her in three years.

The host suddenly held the microphone out to me. "Mr. Weston, I hear you also have a background in design. How would you evaluate Mr. Scott's work?"

Every camera turned toward me.

Lynette turned slightly toward me and murmured, "Answer the way we agreed."

I took the microphone. "It looks very familiar."

A few laughs rose from the crowd.

The host pressed further. "Familiar in style, you mean?"

Jayden answered first, "Mr. Weston has seen my drafts before. Our tastes have probably influenced each other."

His modest tone made it sound as though I had copied him instead.

Lynette took the microphone. "My husband hasn't worked in design since we got married. He sketches things at home sometimes. Jay talks to him about design now and then because he's worried Harold might get bored."

I looked at her. "Lynette, are you sure about that?"

She frowned. "Don't make a scene."

At that moment, the screen switched to the next photo.

In it, Jayden stood beside Lynette with my sapphire pendant around his neck.

The caption read: [The Kensington Group's Most In-Sync Soul Partners]

Someone called out teasingly, "Ms. Kensington, Mr. Scott understands you so well. Mr. Weston won't get jealous, will he?"

Lynette smiled. "Harold is very understanding. He knows work and life need to stay separate."

Jayden walked over to me with a glass of champagne. "Mr. Weston, thank you for being so understanding these past three years. Ms. Kensington often says that without you holding down the fort at home, she couldn't devote all her energy to me with peace of mind."

He leaned closer and lowered his voice so only I could hear. "The 2,000-a-month rule? That was my idea. I helped her set it. I told her a man without money can't wander off. Ms. Kensington thought it made a lot of sense."

I looked up at him.

He smiled, gentle and warm. "Oh, and I drafted that permanent authorization too. You must have been so worried about your mother when you signed it."

The glass in my hand trembled slightly.

I didn't spill a drop.

Lynette walked over and took it from me. "Your stomach's weak. Don't drink."

I looked at her. "Do you limit my money because you're afraid I'll leave?"

"I'm afraid you have no sense of restraint," she said.

"And giving my designs to him? Was that for my own good too?"

Her patience snapped. She lowered her voice. "Harold Weston, being the husband of the Kensington Group's CEO already makes you luckier than most people. Don't try to have everything."

"And if I insist anyway?" I pressed.

"Then you're welcome to try leaving me." Lynette straightened my tie. Her touch was affectionate, but her words held no warmth at all. "No job, no clients, and your mother's future treatment still costs money. Can you actually leave?"

I looked at her and suddenly laughed. There was no spite in it, nor did I expect her to stop me. I simply realized, at last, that these three years could end right here.

I took the divorce agreement from my pocket and slipped it into her handbag. "Lynette, remember to approve it."

She assumed it was just another receipt and didn't even glance down.

I turned and walked out of the venue.

…

Denise was waiting outside the door. I handed her three years' worth of ledgers, with the notice terminating the share proxy tucked behind the last page.

"Send these to the board," I instructed.

She took the ledgers. "What about the brand?"

Onstage, the countdown had already begun.

"Five."

"Four."

"Three."

I pressed Confirm on my phone.