You Want Me Back? Never Again

"Celia, did you really agree to divorce Win? You're not messing with me?"

"Yes, but I want 100 million dollars for the divorce settlement."

There was a pause on the other end. "Fine. Let me get things set up. A month tops, and you'll be out of Win's life!"

Celia Weller managed a tight smile. She tucked the divorce agreement into a gift box and sealed the lid. Then she opened her messages and typed a reply.

"Ms. Green, I'll be back in Nautilum in a month to enter the design competition."

"Really? Don't lie to me. You walked away from that when you got married, and I always thought it was such a waste!"

…

At 10:00 pm, Celia's husband, Winston Lowe, came home.

Before he even swapped his shoes for indoor slippers, he pulled Celia close and murmured an apology. "I'm sorry, Cece. Traffic was awful, so I'm late. Please don't be mad."

His eyes were full of tenderness, but a faint trace of perfume clung to him, sharp enough to sting.

He blamed traffic. More likely, he'd just climbed out of his mistress' bed.

Blinking back the tears in her eyes, Celia picked up the gift box from the table and handed it to him. She forced a smile and said, "This is for you. A gift."

"A gift?"

Winston held it like something precious and started to open it right away.

Celia held up a hand to stop him. "Open it in a month. That's our anniversary. It'll mean more then."

Winston paused, his features softening into a fond smile. "Alright, sweetheart. Whatever you say."

He pulled out his phone, snapped a photo of the box, and posted it on Instagram to show off. The happiness on his face was impossible to miss.

Celia's eyes prickled, and a few memories flashed through her mind.

Back then, Winston had chased her from high school through college, loud about it and all in. In the end, he'd been ready to stand up to the Lowes just to marry her.

His mother, Andrea Tenney, had mocked Celia, saying no man stayed faithful and that they were bound to split sooner or later. She'd even waved money in Celia's face to make her walk away.

Celia had told her that Winston was different. Yet now, he'd proven her wrong, and she couldn't help but think that money was truly the only thing that ever held its value.

She scoffed under her breath. She hoped he would actually be happy in a month.

Winston set the gift box down carefully and headed for the kitchen. In no time, the table was crowded with her favorite dishes.

Celia watched him bustle around the stove, her eyes stinging.

Before this, he'd been a polished young heir who hardly set foot in a kitchen, let alone cooked. Later, he'd picked it up for her and stuck with it.

After they married, he'd taken care of everything for her. With him around, she never had to worry.

"Your face looks thinner. Have you been staying up late for work again? From now on, every pound you lose earns you a day off."

Winston kept piling food onto her plate, all worry and fuss, doting on her as though she were a kid.

Celia's chest tightened with a jumble of feelings, and even the food tasted bitter. She looked up at him, her eyes a little red.

"Do you love me, Winston?"

In a panic, he set the fork down and drew her into his arms. "I love you, Cece. You're everything to me. Seeing you cry breaks my heart. Did someone say something to you? Tell me and I'll make them pay."

The love and worry in Winston's eyes seemed genuine.

Celia's mind went a little hazy as the images surfaced again—him making out with another woman, the two of them walking hand in hand down a street overseas.

She'd known for a month that he had a woman on the side. He still thought he was hiding it well. He didn't realize the faint scent of perfume clinging to him and the long strands of hairs on his clothes had already given him away.

She scoffed inwardly.

Did he really love her?

The phone by Winston's elbow buzzed. He glanced sideways, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. He locked the screen, but Celia still caught the name.

Sophie.

"What's up?" Celia asked.

A bitter taste rose in her throat. She searched his face for any cracks in his facade and found nothing.

Winston flipped the phone face down. "Nothing. A project hit a snag. I need to check on it. Stay home and take it easy. I'll be back soon."

Celia's heart sank. She caught the hem of his shirt to stop him. "What could be so urgent that the CEO himself has to go out and deal with it so late at night? Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

Winston pulled her close without thinking and patted her back. "Alright, I'll stay with you."

He was gentle, but her chest knotted so tightly she could barely breathe.

Dinner tasted like nothing.

…

Fresh from the shower, Winston came out and pulled Celia in from behind. Heat rolled off his broad frame. His hand slid over her waist and drifted lower.

"Your period's over, right, sweetheart?"

Her eyes stung. When his hand slipped toward her skirt, she pushed it away.

"I'm kind of tired."

He stopped. The desire on his face ebbed, leaving him a little lost. "Sweetheart…"

Celia's expression remained blank as she climbed into bed.

Seeing she meant it, he let it go and kissed her cheek. "Sleep. I'll be in the study getting a little work done."

She hummed in reply.

…

Well past midnight, a door clicked.

Celia's eyes flew open. Maybe it was instinct. She slipped out of bed, pulled on a robe, and stepped into the hall. The study was empty.

She frowned and, without meaning to, looked toward the glass doors. In the garden, two figures were locked together. She froze.

Winston pushed Sophie Hart back and barked, "Who told you to come here? I said Cece wasn't supposed to know!"

Eyes brimming with tears, Sophie mustered the nerve and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"You're wound too tight. She won't bend to please you, but I will. I'm wearing the sleepwear you bought me. Want to see, Win?"

She eased her top open, a sliver of skin showing, then rose on tiptoe to kiss his chin. "Win."

Winston's breathing turned ragged as his hand tightened around her waist. Celia had just turned him down in bed, and now the urge pressed in on him.

"You little tease."

He trailed kisses along her neck and whispered something filthy in her ear. Then he picked her up and headed for the car nearby, impatient to the core.

Soon, the car began rocking, their heat impossible to miss.

Celia's eyes burned, and the tears wouldn't stop. Her chest hurt so much she could barely breathe.

She'd never believed in love, not with the family she came from. Then Winston and his stubborn, steady love had made her waver.

He'd treated her gently and never pushed her. Even when the heat rose between them, he'd stopped at just a kiss. He hadn't undressed her until their wedding night, and even then, he'd been careful.

At that moment, Winston, the man who'd always seemed untouchable, had tears in his eyes. He'd drawn her close tenderly and said, "I'll never let you down, Celia."

She'd melted. "Listen, Winston. As long as you never fail me, I, Celia Weller, will never leave you."

Now it all felt like a joke. He'd let her down after all.

And so she would leave him for good.

Forlorn, Celia turned away and headed to the bedroom to pack a few clothes into her suitcase. Then she walked to the wall calendar and marked an X on the 24th.

There were 29 days until she and Winston would be over.

She lay awake all night and only drifted off near dawn.

…

Early that morning, Winston's panicked voice jolted her awake. "Cece, what's this?"

Half-asleep, she blinked. He was holding her phone, and as the screen came into focus, her stomach dropped.

It was a message from the service she'd hired to fake her death!