The Husband She Loved Too Late

I never imagined the résumé I submitted would end up in Ewan Rivera's hands, and that he would be the one interviewing me. The second I pushed the door open, my breath faltered.

He sat behind his desk, a pair of rimless glasses perched on his straight nose. He turned the pages of my résumé with his long fingers. His gaze moved from my photo to my face, a probing look in his eyes.

"Ingrid Landeau? You graduated from Walden College, and you're applying to be my personal assistant?" He tapped the desk and raised his eyes lazily.

He continued, "Do you know what it entails? To put it bluntly, you'll be like a housekeeper. I have a lot going on day to day, so there are countless details you'll need to pay attention to."

He was still talking, but my mind had drifted back to the night we parted years ago.

Back then, Ewan wore a shirt washed to the point of fading. I yanked his collar open, sending the buttons flying. I pinned him to the bed and kissed him without rhyme or reason.

At the same time, I spat the most vile words I could think of. "You must be the happiest of all to see me go bankrupt. Finally, you don't have to swallow your pride to wait on me.

"It must be disgusting to look at my face, isn't it? Well, even if I'm broke, I can still afford to buy one more night with you."

He said nothing. His gaze was dark and unfathomable; his hands found my waist with practiced ease. When it was over, I tossed him a card and bought out the first half of my ridiculous life.

"Are you sure about this?" Ewan drummed his fingers on the table. His voice was ice-cold, and his eyes calm and unreadable.

He didn't recognize me.

I instinctively touched my face. The broad swath of an ugly purple birthmark and rashes from layers of makeup were no longer there.

Now, I wore a thinner, plainer face that was bare and simple. It was impossible to connect me with the person I used to be. I'd even changed my name.

"I'm sure." I forced down the surge of emotion in my chest and found a brief, fake calm.

"Good. You can start now. Let Adam fill you in." Ewan flicked his hand to dismiss me and didn't spare me another glance.

I took the hint and stepped out. The moment the office door closed, the weight in my chest finally eased.

If I could help it, I didn't want to be entangled with Ewan anymore for the rest of my life. He was our faculty's unattainable star, while "dirty, mean, sharp, and ugly" were my labels instead.

I'd insisted on using money to buy him out, grinding his pride into dust. I'd also selfishly had his daughter. But the worst part of all of this was that my daughter, Louisa Landeau, had just been diagnosed with a brain tumor and needed surgery.

As if fate were a stream of water that wouldn't part when severed, I ended up in Ewan's company for Louisa's sake.

…

Over the next few days, I was out of it. Louisa's surgery was imminent, and there was too much I needed to prepare.

By the third time I asked Ewan for leave, his answer was merciless. "This is the final time. Don't bother coming to work anymore."

I could understand that. But still, it was Louisa's birthday, and she wanted so badly to go to the amusement park. With the surgery looming, I was terrified there wouldn't be another chance for this.

I took what I could get and brought her to the amusement park, where we stayed until the afternoon. On the way home, the sky opened up in a sudden downpour, and we huddled under a storefront eave.

I was pulling out my phone to call an Uber when Louisa suddenly slipped from my grasp, running unsteadily to a toy that had fallen. By the time I realized what had happened, she was already in the rain.

A car tore through the sheet of raindrops in the distance, and my heart leapt to my throat. I was about to scream when a hand reached out before I could and yanked Louisa back.

"Ingrid!"

A man's voice cut low and cold through the woven sheets of rain. I looked up, feeling like I was dreaming. Ewan stood in front of me, gripping Louisa's hand tightly.

He had no umbrella, so the water streamed off his hair, his cheeks, and his jaw, soaking his outrageously expensive suit. His eyes were as distant as ever, but there was a hard edge of anger in them now.

"Thank you, Mr. Rivera." Flustered, I pulled Louisa behind me. I didn't prompt her to say thanks as I always would.

Ewan shot us a glance, his tone making it clear that he was brooking no argument. "Get in the car."