Chapter 3

Maeve's POV

I had waited from early evening until late at night. The restaurant had called me three times to tell me they were closing. My fingers had gone white from gripping the gift box so tightly before I finally heard the lock turning.

When Huxley came in, his coat was carrying the chill of the night air. A long strand of unfamiliar hair was caught in his collar.

It belonged to Imogen. I recognized it because she had posted a photo of herself with the same curled hairstyle on social media just yesterday.

Before I could say anything, he frowned and asked, "Why are you still awake?"

"Today is our wedding anniversary," I answered in a slightly trembling voice as I held out the gift box.

He glanced at it but didn't take it.

All he did was respond stoically in an even voice, "I forgot. Imogen had severe stomach cramps, so I took her to the hospital. I just finished dealing with it."

There was no apology. He didn't even offer an explanation for why he hadn't so much as sent me a message. He didn't even ask how long I'd been waiting.

I stood there in stunned silence. Only then did I realize that he wasn't incapable of caring about someone. His concern simply had nothing to do with me.

I recounted everything that had happened over the years in an almost eerily calm voice.

After hearing me, Meredith clenched her fists. "Screw him! What kind of man is he? Does he really think he's some kind of prince? If I'd known he was this much of a jerk, I never would've told him about our plan!"

Irvin looked like he had something to say. "Maeve, Hux actually…"

Meredith snapped at him with reddened, furious eyes. "You and Huxley can both get lost! Maeve is such a wonderful person, and Huxley still had the nerve to make her suffer! That bastard! I'll make him pay for it!"

Truthfully, I had been envious when Irvin came looking for Meredith. I had even thought that if Huxley came looking for me, I'd go back with him.

However, things didn't go as I wished.

This time, I was going back to end things with him once and for all.

I had always been particular about staying faithful and devoted in a relationship. Since Huxley had someone else he held dear in his heart, I wasn't going to cling to him.

Meredith and I went back together, arriving just in time for a party at Locke Manor. People from both the Locke and Zimmerman families were there.

Irvin's parents had passed away years ago, so Meredith hadn't had in-laws around to make her life difficult.

I wasn't nearly as lucky.

Huxley's mother, Rosalie Pratt, was not someone to mess with. She had always believed that I wasn't good enough for him. Every time we met, she made sure to throw a few cutting remarks my way.

The moment Meredith and I stepped into the ballroom at Locke Manor, the lively conversations around us abruptly fell silent. One by one, people turned to look at us, their judgmental gazes weighed on us uncomfortably.

Clearly, our little escape had already become the hottest topic at the party.

Irvin walked ahead of us, his fingers rapidly spinning the prayer beads. He didn't look particularly pleased. He was probably worried that Meredith would cause another scene.

Meredith grabbed my wrist. She was like an angry little kitten that had been provoked. She glared fiercely at everyone who dared to stare at us.

I took a deep breath and was just about to pull her toward a quiet corner when a shrill female voice cut through the room.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Sinclair sisters? What happened? I guess you didn't get enough of the sea breeze on that fishing boat, so you came running back to give us another show."

Rosalie approached us in four-inch heels, draped in a burgundy mink coat. Her jewelry glittered so brightly under the lights that it was almost blinding.

She looked me up and down, her eyes full of contempt and her lips curled into a mocking smile.

Rosalie mocked, "You're a grown woman, yet you're still playing childish games like running away from home? If word gets out, people will think the Locke family treated you so badly that you'd rather squeeze onto some rundown fishing boat than stay here."

I clenched my hands, and my nails dug into my palms. I was just about to defend myself when a voice that was so cloyingly sweet that it sounded unnatural came from behind Rosalie.

"Please don't say that, Mrs. Locke. Maybe Maeve was just going through a difficult time."

Imogen stepped out from behind Rosalie, looking every bit the picture of innocence and thoughtfulness.