Four

Emma stood in the center of the guestroom, surrounded by boxes of her belongings, the life she'd once shared with Noah reduced to scattered remnants. She had been unpacking for hours, trying to make sense of the chaos, trying to convince herself that she could survive this.

Her hands trembled as she lifted the small velvet box from the bottom of her suitcase. The anniversary gift. The gold bracelet she'd saved for months to buy. The one she'd planned to give him over candlelight and champagne on what was supposed to be their third anniversary.

She opened the box, her fingers tracing the engraved initials on the inside of the bracelet. E & N. Forever.

Tears blurred her vision.

She didn't hear the door open. Didn't hear the soft footsteps on the hardwood floor. But she felt the shift in the air, the sudden coldness that filled the room.

"What's that?"

Emma spun around. Jessica stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the velvet box in Emma's hands. She looked like a predator who had cornered her prey.

"Nothing," Emma said quickly, closing the box and hiding it behind her back. "Just personal things."

Jessica stepped closer, her heels clicking against the floor like a countdown. "That's a jewelry box. Let me see it."

"It's none of your—"

Jessica lunged forward, her fingers closing around Emma's wrist. She twisted, hard, and Emma cried out, dropping the box. Jessica snatched it up and opened it, her face twisting with contempt as she examined the bracelet.

"A bracelet? How sweet." She held it up, letting it dangle from her fingers. "For who? Did you buy yourself a little present to feel better about being replaced?"

Emma said nothing. Her heart was pounding so loudly she could barely hear anything else.

Jessica's gaze dropped to Emma's neck. The chain. The ring hidden beneath her shirt. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"And what's that?"

Emma's hand flew to her throat, clutching the ring through the fabric. "Please. Just leave me alone."

But Jessica was faster. She lunged again, ripping the chain from Emma's neck. The clasp broke. The ring fell into Jessica's palm like a captured prize.

She stared at it. Turned it over. Read the inscription inside.

Forever, Noah.

The room went silent.

Jessica's face drained of color. Then, slowly, her cheeks flushed red with fury. Her eyes blazed as she lifted her gaze to Emma.

"You're his wife," she hissed. "You're the woman he married."

Emma's throat was too tight to speak. She nodded, a single, helpless motion.

Jessica laughed. It was a cold, ugly sound that echoed off the walls. "All this time. All this time you've been playing the poor little caregiver, and you're actually his wife. The woman he forgot."

"Please—"

"Please what?" Jessica stepped closer, backing Emma against the dresser. "Please don't tell him? Please don't ruin your little fantasy?" She held up the ring, letting it catch the light. "You think you can just waltz in here and take him back? He doesn't remember you. He remembers ME. I'm the one he reaches for in his sleep. I'm the one he smiles at. I'm the one he thinks he loves."

"You don't love him," Emma whispered. "You left him. You broke his heart. You don't care about him—"

"Of course I don't care about him." Jessica's smile was razor-sharp. "I care about what he can give me. His money. His name. His power. And I won't let some pathetic little nobody take that away from me."

Emma's hands were shaking. "The doctors said no stress. If you tell him the truth, it could—"

"I know what the doctors said." Jessica tucked the ring into her pocket, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. "That's exactly why I'm going to use it. You're going to leave. Tonight. You're going to walk out that door and never come back. Or I'll tell Noah everything."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." Jessica's voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "I'll tell him you're his wife who abandoned him. I'll tell him you're a gold-digger who only married him for his money. I'll tell him you're the reason he's suffering—that you caused the accident somehow. By the time I'm done, he'll hate you so much he'll never want to remember you."

"Please," Emma begged, tears streaming down her face. "Please don't do this. He needs to heal. He needs time—"

"He needs me." Jessica straightened her dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. "And he's going to get me. You have until midnight. If you're still here when the clock strikes twelve, I'll destroy you. I'll destroy everything you've ever loved."

She walked out, her heels clicking like gunshots.

Emma sank to the floor, her sobs tearing through the silence.

The ring was gone. Her proof. Her truth. Her only connection to the life she'd lost.

And now she had to leave.

***

The clock on the nightstand read 11:47 PM.

Emma had been packing for hours. Her suitcase was full, her belongings shoved haphazardly inside. She didn't care about any of it. None of it mattered. None of it was real.

Not anymore.

She paused at the window, looking out at the city skyline she'd once loved with Noah. The lights sparkled in the darkness, indifferent to her pain. Somewhere out there, the life she'd built was still waiting for her. But she couldn't go back to it. Not now. Not without him.

A soft knock at the door made her freeze.

She wiped her face roughly, trying to hide the evidence of her tears. The door opened before she could respond.

Noah stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable. He was wearing a silk robe, his hair slightly disheveled, the bandage on his forehead stark against his pale skin. He looked tired. Distant. Cold.

He glanced at the suitcase on her bed. His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. Or irritation.

"You're leaving," he stated. His voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

Emma nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Yes."

"My mother will need to arrange another caregiver." He said it like she was an employee giving notice. "This is inconvenient."

The words landed like stones in Emma's chest. He didn't care. He didn't care that she was leaving. He only cared about the inconvenience.

"I'm sorry for the trouble," she whispered, her hands trembling as she folded a shirt.

Noah walked further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the boxes, the scattered belongings, the evidence of her existence he'd already tried to erase. His eyes landed on the open velvet box on the dresser—the one she'd forgotten to close.

"What is that?" he asked, gesturing toward it.

Emma moved quickly, snapping the box shut. "Nothing. Just personal."

He studied her face. There was no warmth in his gaze, just clinical curiosity. He noticed her red-rimmed eyes, the tears she couldn't hide.

"You've been crying."

She didn't answer.

Noah walked to the window, turning his back to her. He stood there for a long moment, his silhouette framed against the glittering city lights. When he spoke again, his voice was cold. Matter-of-fact.

"I don't care why you're leaving. But I have a business meeting tomorrow—important investors. The company depends on it. I need someone who knows my routine, my medication schedule, the house staff's protocols." He paused. "Finding a replacement will take time."

Emma's heart cracked open. He didn't care about her. He cared about his schedule. His business. The company.

She was nothing to him. Less than nothing.

"I can stay," she heard herself say. The words came out broken, barely audible. "Until you find someone. Just until then."

Noah turned back to face her. His expression remained cold, but something flickered in his eyes—a shadow of something. Recognition, maybe. Or confusion.

"Fine," he said flatly. "A week. That's all I need."

He walked toward the door, his footsteps slow and careful, his body still recovering from the trauma. He paused at the threshold, his hand on the doorframe.

"Emma."

She looked up.

"Stay in the guest room. Don't leave the penthouse without telling me." His voice was clipped, commanding. "I don't want complications."

He left.

No goodbye. No thank you. Just cold instructions delivered like she was a servant.

Emma sank onto the edge of the bed, her legs giving out beneath her. She clutched the empty velvet box to her chest and let the sobs overtake her.

One week. She had one week before Noah found a replacement. One week before Jessica's threat loomed over her head. One week to figure out how to save her marriage.

But Noah didn't want her. He wanted Jessica. He wanted the memory he'd clung to, the woman who had broken his heart. He looked at Emma like she was a stranger who had overstayed her welcome.

And somewhere deep inside, buried beneath the cold indifference, he had asked her to stay. Not because he wanted her. Because she was useful.

But she stayed anyway.

Because there was nowhere else to go. Because he was still her husband, even if he didn't know it. Because she loved him more than she loved herself.

She pressed her forehead against the cold glass of the window and closed her eyes.

She had one week.

And she had no idea how to win him back.