The Last Rain Before Goodbye

Auremburg, Carmoria.The Buxtons had this stuck-up tradition—some fancy end-of-year bash where outsiders weren't welcome.Except this time, someone didn't get the memo.Enter Gianna Payne. Calvin Buxton's ex. His "one true love."They strolled in late, dinner already in full swing. Calvin had one arm around her, and guess where they headed?Straight. To. Me.I looked at his smug face, and my eyes started to burn.He was the only guy I'd ever loved. Three years married, and I still hadn't made it past the velvet ropes into his heart."Get up. That's not your seat."No shame. No hesitation. Just straight-up humiliation in front of everyone.And yeah, he was right. That chair wasn't mine—it belonged to 'Mrs. Buxton.'Legally, that was me. Emotionally? I might as well have been a ghost.Now that his precious Gianna had slithered back into Carmoria, I was supposed to just... vanish.Every pair of eyes in that room turned into knives.I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Years of s

She kept going. "Calvin said you're REALLY good at it. You don't mind letting me try, do you?"I was ready to shut it down—hard—when another transfer lit up my screen.Calvin.Note: [For your trouble.]Nice. The kind of tip they usually toss to a maid.Guess I'd officially been downgraded—Mrs. Buxton, now playing the help.I let out a dry laugh, hung up, and accepted the cash.Divorce was coming anyway.Might as well get paid while I still had the title.By the time I got to the hotel with the soup, it was 2 a.m.The suite door was cracked open—like they'd been expecting me.I stepped onto the plush carpet, and there it was—Gianna's voice, floating out."Calvin, I heard that when Ms. Astor's mom died, you held her on the bed all night. Is that true? Did you fall in love with her?"I froze. Barely breathed.I'd already made up my mind to leave.Didn't stop my heart from pounding like a drumline.That night came rushing back—the storm, the silence, the way I let myself be

The hint of a smile froze on Calvin's face.[Eight weeks pregnant.]When? Why hadn't she said anything? Was she skipping treatment to keep the baby? Was she seriously risking everything?Frustration kicked in hard. "Where did Angela go?"The housekeeper stalled, then shrugged. "That woman left with her bags this morning. Didn't say where."Calvin's jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. "What do you mean 'that woman'? Who is she?"The housekeeper flinched, shot a nervous look at Gianna, then mumbled, "Sorry. I meant Mrs. Buxton. She left this morning. With her luggage."Calvin stared at the housekeeper, but Angela's words from last night hit harder: "And you didn't used to just stand there while people bullied me."He used to think slapping the title "Mrs. Buxton" on her meant she'd automatically get the respect that came with it. But truth was, without his backing, she was just decor—pretty, silent, invisible.Too late now.Gianna, sensing the shift, leaned in to peek at the notebook

Kenny ended the call and spun toward me, oozing attitude. "Mr. Buxton says once you're done throwing your little tantrum, you should crawl back and apologize to Ms. Payne. That divorce talk? Not cute for her image."I glanced at my mom's smiling face on the headstone and whispered, "I'm not going back."Kenny didn't even flinch. Just rolled his eyes and strutted off.I knelt, laid fresh tulips at Mom's grave, and brushed the dust off her picture. "I'm leaving Calvin, Mom. Don't worry—I've got real family now."My hand settled over my stomach. "We're gonna be okay. Even without him."The breeze was warm, the sun high. I paid for thirty years of upkeep, grabbed my bag, and headed straight for the airport.***Buxton mansion.Deborah clutched Gianna like she was some fragile treasure and shot Calvin that trademark mom-glare. "I told you, girls like Angela? No manners, no backbone. She's threatening divorce over nothing—what does she think this family is, a charity?"Honestly, jus

Since the gala—aka the night Gianna hijacked the spotlight to drop the engagement bomb and Luke clapped back with divorce papers—things between Calvin and Angela had been ice cold.They looked close, sure, but the vibe? Totally off.Calvin, still out of it, blinked at the woman in front of him. Same eyes. Same soft tone. His mouth moved before his brain caught up."Angela..."Barely a whisper, but it hit like a lightning strike.Gianna's face? Ghost white.Calvin pulled her in, his stubble grazing her hair as he caught a whiff of roses.Then his face dropped.The second he saw her clearly, he shoved her back."Don't touch me. Angela wouldn't like it. And Angela's my wife—quit playing."Silence. Total dead air.These were the same people who used to crack jokes about Angela. Gold-digger this, tantrum that. Some even placed bets on how fast she'd come crawling back for cash.Angela had heard it all once—just trying to get a wasted Calvin home.To them, she was never a wife.