Lahat ng Kabanata ng Dear Ex, See you never: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Millicent's POVThis time, I arrive first. I make sure I leave an hour early, that way, he’ll know I mean this shit.I choose a booth in the back of the diner, positioning myself so I can see the door clearly. When Damon walks in, I watch him scan the room, spot me, and make his way over. He moves like he owns the place, which, for all I know, he might."Miss Andrews." He slides into the seat across from me, his cologne slapping me hard before anything he might say. "You said you have conditions.""I do." I pull out a folded piece of paper, my own contract, handwritten, nowhere near as impressive as his legal documents but no less binding in my mind. "I've read your terms. It’s time you hear mine."Something flickers in his expression. Surprise, maybe, or interest. "Go on.""First, Josh gets to live with me in the mansion. Not in some separate wing, not with some nanny I've never met. With me, in my quarters, I'm his mother, and I decide who cares for him and how."He nods once. "Agr

Millicent's POVI get married on a Tuesday. The courthouse is nothing like what I imagined for my second wedding, not that I ever imagined a second wedding at all. The walls are beige, the fluorescent lights buzz overhead, and the clerk behind the desk looks like she'd rather be anywhere else than here.I wear a white dress I found at a thrift store for twenty dollars. It’s simple, modest, not so much cleavage and not quite the right shade of white, but it'll do. Damon, of course, wears a suit that probably costs more than the entire courthouse. We stand next to each other in front of the clerk like two strangers at a bus stop. Which, I suppose, we are."Do you, Damon Alexander Hale, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?""I do." His voice is flat, and businesslike as usual. He could be agreeing to a merger. Who knows."And do you, Millicent Grace Andrews, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"I look at Damon. His gray eyes are fixed on a point somewhere over

Millicent's POV"A gala? How fascinating.""The Morrison Foundation charity auction. Saturday evening. It's our first public appearance as a married couple." Damon delivers this information over breakfast like he's reading stock prices. "A stylist will arrive tomorrow to prepare you.""I don't need a stylist.""You do. You don't have anything appropriate to wear."The words sting, even though they're true. My wardrobe consists of thrift store finds and hand-me-downs, nothing that would survive five minutes in the world Damon inhabits."Fine," I mumble through gritted teeth. "You can send your stylist."The stylist is a whirlwind named Mark, he’s all sharp, with cheekbones sharpened finely and wears designer everything. He descends on my quarters with racks of gowns, cases of jewelry, and an army of assistants."Darling." He circles me like I'm a mannequin. "We have so much work to do."Three hours later, I don't recognize myself.The gown is emerald green, floor-length, with a necklin

Millicent's POVI can't stop thinking about the music.Over the next few days I find excuses to pass the east wing hallway, going to the kitchen for late-night water, getting "lost" on my way to the library, taking wrong turns that just happen to lead me past that forbidden door.I never see anyone, but the evidence accumulates.A coffee cup on a windowsill in a sitting room Damon never uses, still warm when I touch it, a book left open on a side table, poetry, something about desire and distance, a sweater draped over a chair, too small to be Damon's.Someone lives in this house, and it’s Someone who reads poetry, drinks coffee and plays piano at midnight. It’s someone Damon is keeping secret.I ask Elena directly one afternoon, catching her in the kitchen."Does anyone else live here? Besides Damon and the staff?"Her hands still on the inventory list she's reviewing. "Mr. Hale values his privacy.""That's not an answer.""Mr. Hale has guests sometimes." She meets my eyes, and I see

Millicent's POVDamon appears in my doorway at 7 AM, looking like he hasn't slept."My mother is coming. Today. She’ll be here in four hours."I blink at him, still half-asleep with Josh drowsy in my arms. "Okay?""She wants to meet you. Her new daughter-in-law." He utters the words like they're poison. "I need you well prepared."What follows is the most intense coaching session of my life.Damon sits me down in the study and drills me on everything, his mother's history, her preferences, her sensitive topics. She hates people who fidget. She respects directness but dislikes rudeness. She'll ask about children, so tell her Josh is from a previous relationship, that we're not planning more yet. She'll ask how we met, so use the story from the gala. She'll try to catch me in contradictions, because she's sharp even when she's dying."You think she won't believe me," I say, irritated. "You think I'll blow this.""I think you're an unknown variable and I can't control what you say." H