Chapter 7

I quickly slammed the door shut and locked it. My heart pounded so hard that I could hear it in my ears. I pressed a trembling hand against my chest as I struggled to calm my breathing.

God, please don't let them find out about Jayden, I prayed silently.

After standing there for a few seconds, I slowly turned around. The moment I did, I saw Jayden running down the stairs as fast as his little feet could carry him. Emma was right behind him, trying to catch up before he reached me, but she was too late.

He ran straight into my arms. "I missed—"

Before he could finish speaking, I gently covered his mouth with my hand. "Shhh." I whispered. "Bad people."

His eyes widened immediately, and he nodded without making another sound.

Emma walked over to the window and carefully looked outside. After watching for a few moments, she turned back to us. "They have already left," she said.

I finally let out the breath I had been holding. Jayden looked up at me with a confused expression and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Why are bad people here?"

His innocent little whisper made both Emma and me laugh softly despite everything that had just happened.

"They came to say hello to Mummy," I said gently, stroking his hair, "but I chased them away already."

He seemed satisfied with that answer. Keeping one arm around him, I led him back into the living room. "So," I said with a smile, "tell me about your day."

He puffed out his cheeks and folded his arms. "It was boring," he complained.

Then he looked up at me hopefully. "Mummy, can I come to work with you tomorrow?"

Back in London, Jayden visited me at work from time to time. Whenever he insisted on seeing me, especially on days when he was feeling well, his nanny would bring him to the hospital for a short visit. But things were different here in New York.

There was no way I was taking him anywhere near my workplace. Part of that hospital belonged to David's family, and there was always a chance that he or one of his relatives could see Jayden. I couldn't risk that happening.

I forced a small smile. "My hospital here doesn't allow us to bring our children to work or visit like they do in London," I lied.

It had been a few days already, and I still hadn't found the courage to reach out to David or come up with a way to get him to sleep with me. Every plan I thought of sounded terrible the moment I replayed it in my head. My mind always found a reason to reject it, reminding me that it would only make me look desperate.

In the end, I decided to do the exact opposite of what Elsa and Tamara wanted. I was going to attend Mrs. Lockwood's sixtieth birthday party.

I didn't care about Mrs. Lockwood or her birthday. The only reason I was going was to annoy Elsa and Tamara. If my presence ruined their day, then it would be worth it. There was also a small chance that something might happen between David and me at the party. The real problem wasn't getting close to David.

It was getting him to want me. Throughout our entire marriage, David had never wanted me. The only time we had been intimate was the night he was completely drunk. If I wanted another chance, I would have to find a way to make him see me differently.

I would figure something out. Pushing those thoughts aside, I focused on work instead. I headed straight for my office.

The moment I opened the door, I stopped in surprise.

My desk and office chair were covered with gifts. There were neatly wrapped boxes, expensive-looking gift bags, and several bouquets of my favorite flowers arranged across the table.

I frowned and slowly stepped inside. Who could have sent all of this? I walked over to the desk and picked up one of the bouquets. A small card was tucked between the flowers.

I pulled it out and read the message. "Sending you love and wishing you a blissful week... D."

My expression darkened instantly. Without another thought, I crushed the note in my hand and threw it onto the floor. Then I dropped the bouquet beside it and stepped on the flowers with all my strength, crushing the petals beneath my shoes.

I picked up my phone and dialed David's number. I had asked the hospital director for his number the previous week, thinking I would eventually need to call him. I just hadn't expected it to be because of this.

He answered on the first ring.

"I knew you would call," he said calmly. "I take it you received my gifts. I hope you loved them, especially your favorite flowers."

My grip on the phone tightened. "You son of—" I stopped myself, taking a deep breath to keep my temper under control.

The nerve of him. During our entire marriage, David had never bought me a single gift. Not a piece of jewelry, not flowers. Not even something as small as a hairpin.

Whenever he came home carrying shopping bags filled with expensive clothes or jewelry, my heart would always race with hope. Then he would casually tell me they were for Tamara.

For three years, he kept buying gifts for the woman who had abandoned him on their wedding day. He never stopped believing she would come back, so he kept every gift, waiting for the day she returned.

Not once had he thought I deserved even the smallest present. And now he was suddenly sending me gifts because… I pushed the thought away before it could affect me.

"Let this be the last time you send anything to my office," I said coldly. "I'm going to burn every single one of those gifts."

I paused before adding another lie. "And for your information, purple orchids aren't my favorite flowers." Without waiting for him to respond, I ended the call.

A few minutes later, I called one of the hospital janitors and asked her to clear everything out of my office. I didn't care whether she threw the gifts away, donated them, or took them home herself. I just didn't want to see them again.

After a long day filled with consultations and hours spent in surgery, I finally packed my bag and left my office. Exhaustion weighed heavily on my body as I made my way out of the hospital.

The moment I stepped outside, I froze. David was waiting for me. He was leaning casually against his car as though he had been there for a while. In one hand, he was holding a neatly wrapped gift box.