Chapter 4

That night, I went through everything Adrian had given me over the past twenty years.

The brass fountain pen had been a gift for my twenty-fifth birthday. My initials were engraved along the side, and I had once believed he had chosen it because he knew how much that milestone meant to me.

A month later, Mia brought the same pen to a meeting.

When someone noticed, she lowered her eyes and smiled shyly.

“Adrian said if someone else has something beautiful, I deserve to have it too.”

Then there was the rare jazz record Adrian and I had waited three hours to buy from a shop in the Village. He borrowed it from me one evening, claiming he wanted to listen to our favorite song again.

The next day, it appeared in the background of a photograph Mia posted online.

There was also the burgundy leather briefcase, the cashmere scarf, and the silver cuff links I had once bought for Adrian because he said he wanted something that would remind him of me during important meetings.

Mia had worn those cuff links on a chain around her neck at the office Christmas party.

Everything I had once believed was unique had already been copied, shared, or handed to someone else.

And Adrian hadn’t treated us equally.

I remembered how patiently he comforted Mia, how quickly he defended her, and how willing he had been to destroy my trust just to protect her feelings.

A bitter smile touched my lips.

None of these things meant anything anymore.

I packed them into two boxes and arranged for a charity resale shop to collect them in the morning. Then I zipped my suitcase, checked my flight information, and went to bed determined to spend my final night in New York in peace.

At two in the morning, my phone woke me.

The number was unfamiliar. Still half asleep, I answered.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

I was about to hang up when Adrian’s voice came through the line.

“Evie, I’m sorry.”

I sat up immediately.

For one humiliating moment, hope rushed through me.

Maybe he had finally decided to tell me the truth. Maybe the slap had forced him to understand what he had done. Maybe some part of the man I had loved for twenty years still possessed a conscience.

Then Adrian continued.

“Mia tried to hurt herself tonight.”

The hope inside me crashed.

“She’s at the hospital,” he said heavily. “I can’t leave her alone in this condition, so I won’t be submitting my resignation yet. I’ll have to postpone Sterling for a while.”

I looked at the suitcase beside my bedroom door.

A question rose inside me.

What about me?

What about every accusation I endured while defending him? What about the damage to my career? What about the weeks I spent believing he was being targeted while he stood by and watched me sacrifice myself for a lie?

Before I could speak, Adrian added, “You need to apologize to her.”

For a second, I thought I had misheard him.

“What did you say?”

“You heard me.” His voice became firm. “You humiliated Mia in front of the entire office. Then you slapped me because I defended her. Can you honestly say what she did tonight had nothing to do with you?”

I fell silent.

Not because he was right.

Because I finally understood that as long as Mia was involved, anything I said or did would be turned against me.

If I corrected her work, I was bullying an intern.

If I refused to comfort her, I was heartless.

If I asked her to leave my home, I was humiliating her for being poor.

Even when I said nothing, my silence became another weapon she could claim I had used against her.

Adrian’s voice turned cold.

“Evelyn, I have never been this disappointed in you.”

I almost laughed.

“Go to the hospital and apologize,” he continued. “If you do, I’ll forget what happened today. Once Mia is stable, I’ll join you at Sterling in two months.”

He paused before softening his tone.

It was the same gentle voice that had misled me for years.

“Are you really going to throw away twenty years between us because of one mistake?”

The promise was a threat disguised as forgiveness.

Yet this time, I felt neither anger nor heartbreak.

Only exhaustion.

“Adrian,” I said quietly, “you’re the one who threw those twenty years away.”

I ended the call before he could answer.

Then I blocked the number, deleted our messages, and removed the last photographs of him from my phone.

For the first time, I found myself genuinely looking forward to the morning.

At dawn, I boarded my flight to London.

Rain streaked the windows when I walked out of Heathrow. Before I could reach for my suitcase, a man in a charcoal coat took it from my hand and opened a black umbrella over us.

I looked up and met the eyes of Adrian’s older half brother.

Julian Vale had always shared a faint resemblance to him. But where Adrian’s charm now felt carefully practiced, Julian’s confidence needed no performance.

He smiled at me.

“Welcome to London, Evelyn.”

I held out my hand.

“It’s been a long time, Julian.”

Before he could answer, my phone rang.

The number belonged to one of Adrian’s coworkers. Curious, I accepted the call.

Adrian’s voice burst through the speaker.

“Evie, where are you?”

He sounded breathless, and the confidence I had heard only hours earlier was gone.

“I asked around at Sterling, but they said you never accepted the offer. No one there has seen you.”

His voice sharpened with panic.

“Where the hell did you go?”