Chapter 3

Watching Evelyn rub it in my face just how much Martin cared about her made me want to slap her.

Joan grabbed my shoulder before I could do anything. "Willow, don't. Just hang in there a little longer. Three years ago, your parents died in a car accident, and Quade Group fell into chaos.

"Then Martin shut himself away at the monastery and announced that he was washing his hands of everything. He didn't lift a finger to help you, and people at Quade Group took advantage of the situation to push you aside.

"If you fall out with Martin now, it'll only make it harder for you to take back what's rightfully yours."

That made me lose even more respect for Martin. If Joan knew what had happened, there was no way he didn't. He'd known I was struggling and still stood by and did nothing.

Either way, I didn't need his help. I was perfectly capable of making it on my own.

I cut Joan off and looked straight at Martin. "I don't care what's going on between you two. And just so we're clear, Mr. Gentry, I'm the one walking away from your company today."

I couldn't be bothered to stick around for his reaction. I grabbed Joan and headed for the door.

The moment we stepped outside, she pulled free. "Willow, have you lost your mind? Forget it. You don't remember anything, so there's no point trying to talk sense into you. I'll go talk to Martin.

"You two have been married for seven years. Surely he'll cut you some slack."

I frowned.

Apparently, I'd spent the past seven years letting people walk all over me even more than I'd realized.

I caught Joan by the arm. "Forget him. Come have a drink with me."

The second I mentioned alcohol, Joan froze and stared at me like I'd lost my mind. "Didn't you quit drinking seven years ago because Martin couldn't stand the smell of alcohol?

"You were so serious about it that you actually got into a fight with us. You even said you'd cut off anyone who ever brought up alcohol around you again."

The more she told me, the more ridiculous it sounded.

Whenever I was stressed or needed inspiration, I'd mix myself a few cocktails at home to unwind. I'd been doing that for more than a decade. And somehow, I'd given it all up for a man who didn't even love me.

Worse, I'd nearly ruined my friendship with Joan, someone I'd known my whole life, over it.

I really had been an idiot.

I pushed the thought aside and gave Joan's cheek a playful pinch. "Look at you making excuses. What, are you getting old? Afraid you can't keep up with me anymore?"

Joan's face immediately flushed. She whipped out her phone and started messaging everyone in our group chat.

"Just you wait. I'm getting everyone together tonight. We'll see how tough you are after a few drinks!"

Before long, a few of our closest friends had joined us. They all talked over one another, bombarding me with questions about what I'd been up to.

Eventually, the conversation turned to Martin.

"Joan said you're getting divorced?"

"Yeah. Didn't you used to say Martin was the love of your life and that you'd rather die than live without him?"

I didn't want them worrying about me, so I kept the memory loss to myself and just smiled. "I finally came to my senses. Come on, drink up!"

After a few drinks, everyone loosened up and started teasing me. From what they told me, Martin had always been ridiculously old-fashioned and more than a little controlling.

As soon as we got married, he laid down a whole list of rules. I wasn't allowed to drink. I had to be home by 10:00 pm. I wasn't allowed to check up on him, and his phone was completely off-limits.

After Evelyn's accident, he only got worse. He moved out of our home and into the monastery, then washed his hands of the company altogether.

Apparently, I'd been so worried about his health that I made herbal remedies for him myself and had them delivered every single day. And after seven years of doing that, I still hadn't seen him once.

The more I heard about the past, the more absurd it all sounded.

I remembered being talented and ambitious, determined to make something of myself after graduation. Yet somehow, I'd only ended up more miserable with each passing year.