Chapter 4

I returned to the bedroom and locked the door behind me.

Outside, I could hear Brian's sickeningly sweet voice and Whitney's deliberately exaggerated laughter.

"Too bad," I thought. "She's going to be very disappointed."

I took out my phone and called the rehabilitation center's director.

"Ms. Thompson, have you finished arranging my mother's transfer?"

"Mr. Livingston, don't worry. Ms. Grant has personally taken care of everything. The top medical team will be transferring your mom to a private hospital this afternoon."

I let out a long sigh of relief.

…

At three in the afternoon, Whitney pounded on my bedroom door.

"Sean, come out and change! The stylist is here."

I opened the door and saw a whole line of people standing in the living room, carrying designer suits and makeup cases.

Brian was sitting on the couch.

"Whitney, this deep-V shirt looks so good," he said. "Claire's boyfriend wore one just like that yesterday."

Whitney didn't even look at the suit. She pointed at a more conservative black formal suit beside it and told the stylist to put him in that instead.

Brian froze for a moment, then shot me a glare.

"Claire said that when you bring your husband to a formal occasion, he should dress appropriately," Whitney said, turning to me. "Those deep-V outfits that show off your abs are meant for the men on the side."

She walked over and reached out to touch my hand.

"Brian's just a little fun on the side. He can't possibly threaten your position. Just behave yourself tonight. Don't embarrass me in front of everyone."

I avoided her hand and let her stylist lead me away to get ready.

Whitney's brows furrowed at my indifference.

…

At eight that evening, the yacht cruised slowly along the river. The deck was brightly lit, filled with elegantly dressed men and women mingling over drinks.

The moment Whitney stepped aboard, she dragged me straight toward Claire and her circle.

Claire was holding a new man in her arms as she drank. The moment she saw us, she came over.

"Well, well, Whitney," she drawled. "You really brought your husband along?"

She gave me a once-over. "Sean, you certainly dressed conservatively. Look at the new guy I found. He's young and gorgeous."

Whitney's expression stiffened. She'd assumed Claire would bring her husband, but instead she'd brought another lover.

In their circle, Whitney always followed everyone else blindly, yet somehow stayed a step behind.

"Claire, didn't you say you were going back to your husband?" she asked, trying to salvage her dignity.

Claire burst out laughing and patted Whitney on the shoulder.

"Come on, you can't seriously be that naive, can you? As long as the husband at home stays put and the lover outside keeps you entertained, that's what being a capable woman is all about."

The other women around them immediately joined in.

"Exactly! Whitney, you kicked Brian out, and now you don't even have anyone to pour you a drink. How boring!"

Whitney's ego took a hit.

"Who says I don't?" She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "Brian, come to the pier right now. I'll have someone take a speedboat to pick you up."

She hung up and shot Claire a triumphant look.

"Not only do I have a husband to keep up appearances, but I also have another guy to pour my drinks. Claire, that's what you call having the best of both worlds."

I stood to the side, watching her show off like a complete fool. All I felt was pity for her.

Half an hour later, Brian came hurrying onto the yacht in the deep-V white shirt he'd been wearing earlier, looking like some flamboyant butterfly.

The moment he came aboard, he clung to Whitney's side and started whispering sweet nothings.

Her friends immediately cheered and teased them.

Only then did Whitney feel confident again. She pulled Brian down onto the seat beside her, pointed at the liquor on the table, then at me.

"Sean, go pour Brian a drink."

The entire deck fell silent. Everyone looked at me as though they were waiting for a show.

"How could I let you do that?" Brian gasped, covering his mouth with feigned embarrassment. "Sean's your husband. How could he possibly pour me a drink?"

Whitney snorted. "Didn't Claire's husband pour her lover a drink last time? That's called being broad-minded."

She stared at me, her eyes full of warning. "Sean, don't make me say it twice. If you don't pour that drink today, you're making me look bad."

The river breeze swept across the deck, carrying the chill of early fall.

I stood there, taking in how foolish Whitney looked.

"I'm not doing it."

The color drained from her face. Being publicly rejected by me in front of all her friends was more painful to her than anything.

"Sean, have you lost your mind?" She shot to her feet. "Claire's husband at least knows how to put the bigger picture first. I'm only asking Brian to join us and have some fun. But as my husband, you can't even show that much tolerance?

"Believe it or not, I'll have my lawyer activate that divorce agreement right now. I'll make sure you walk away with nothing!"

She still thought I didn't know the agreement had already been torn up, and was still using the document from three months ago to threaten me.

Seeing how furious she was, I suddenly laughed.

"Whitney, you always bring up Claire," I said, looking straight into her eyes. "Claire cheats, so you cheat too. If she buys watches for her lover, you do the same too.

"Claire threatens her husband with divorce, so you copy her too. You can't even be a cheater without having a mind of your own."

The expressions of the women around us changed instantly. Even Claire gave an awkward cough.

I'd struck a nerve with Whitney. Her eyes turned bloodshot, and she raised her hand to slap me.

"You're asking for it!" she snapped.

Just as she was about to strike, a hand caught her wrist.

"Ms. Shaw, is hitting someone in public another thing you learned from Claire?"