Chapter 4

Two days before my departure, Presley unexpectedly sent me a text.

"Let's grab dinner tonight."

My response was concise.

"Okay."

At 7:00 pm, I arrived at the restaurant address he'd sent. The moment I pushed open the door to the private room, I saw Vivienne sitting inside.

She had on a light-colored dress, and the four-leaf clover necklace was right around her neck.

She froze for a second when she caught sight of me, but she quickly recovered and flashed me a smile. "Natalie, you made it."

I stopped and looked over at Presley.

His face was a mask of complete indifference as he pulled out a chair for me. "Have a seat. Vivienne's been wanting a chance to clear things up with you, so I figured we could all just grab a bite together."

Clear things up?

I almost laughed out loud.

A husband had a private dinner with his intern, called his wife over to join them, and called it clearing the air.

Without causing a scene, I sat down and set my bag by my leg.

Vivienne put on her best innocent act, immediately pouring a cup of warm water.

"Natalie, I hope that Instagram post didn't upset you. I really didn't mean anything by it. I've always been pretty casual about what I put up online. I just didn't think it through," she claimed.

I looked at her, my voice entirely flat. "It's fine."

She probably hadn't expected me to be that calm about it.

She froze for just a beat, then quickly turned to Presley with a smile. "See, Mr. Quinn? I told you Natalie was the bigger person. She's not the type to hold a grudge against me over nothing."

Presley nodded. "She was never the unreasonable type."

Hearing those words come out of his mouth felt completely surreal to me, and once the food was served, the dinner devolved into nothing short of a public humiliation.

Vivienne claimed she didn't know how to peel shrimp, so Presley slid the entire plate over to his side and shelled them one by one, placing each one on her plate.

She said the parsley in her mushroom soup was too strong, and he immediately swapped her bowl out and asked the server to bring a fresh one without it.

When the server came around with cold drinks, Presley put his hand up to stop them.

"Her stomach's been bothering her. Nothing cold for her," he said.

Meanwhile, I sat across from them the whole time, days out from a miscarriage, still too nauseous to handle anything greasy. All I could do was take small sips of the warm water in front of me.

But from the beginning of the meal to the end, Presley never once asked me how I was feeling.

It was like I wasn't the one who'd just suffered a miscarriage. It was like that baby had never existed in the first place.

Midway through the dinner, Vivienne suddenly pulled her phone out with a smile. "Mr. Quinn, I just came across this quiz. You should try it."

Presley looked up. "What kind of quiz?"

"It asks what couples or married partners value most in their significant other," she said, her voice light and playful as she slid the phone across the table.

After that, her gaze drifted to my face for just a second.

The room went quiet.

Presley didn't think twice before blurting out his answer, "Emotionally stable and low-maintenance."

Vivienne laughed right then and there. "That sounds just like me."

She threw a casual, fleeting glance in my direction, not bothering to hide the smugness in it.

I sat there with my fingers wrapped around my glass, and there wasn't a single emotion stirring inside me. I simply raised my hand to flag down our server.

"Check, please."

The server hesitated. "For the whole table, ma'am?"

I shook my head, picked up my fork, and pointed at the small plate of greens sitting in front of me, which I'd barely touched. "Just what I had."

The server looked a little lost, his eyes instinctively darting to Presley.

Presley's expression darkened. "What exactly are you doing, Natalie?"

I didn't even look at him. I pulled my phone out of my bag, scanned the payment code, and paid exactly nine dollars.

Once the confirmation came through, I put my phone away and looked up at him.

"You love keeping score, don't you?" I said. "Let's make sure it's perfectly balanced, then. After tonight, you and I are completely square."

Presley clearly hadn't seen it coming. He sat there, completely frozen.

The smile vanished from Vivienne's face, her expression going a little stiff.

I didn't say another word. I picked up my bag, stood up, and walked out.

Behind me, Presley's voice cut through the air, tight with barely suppressed anger. "Natalie Vaughn, get back here!"

Nevertheless, I didn't turn around and went straight home.

The apartment was very quiet when I stepped inside. I pulled out the suitcase I'd already packed, tucked in the last few items, then went to the study to gather my documents and work files.

Then, I sat down at the coffee table and laid everything out slowly—the divorce agreement on top, the hospital discharge paperwork from that morning in the middle, and at the bottom, the notebook, still open to the page that read, "Electric bill balance owed, one cent."

Once that was done, I zipped my suitcase, hailed a taxi, and headed to the airport.

But just then, my phone started going crazy.