Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Billion-Dollar Regret: The Forgotten Wife Returns: Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

POV: Yessica | Location: EdinburghThe shop opened at nine.Agnes unlocked the door at eight forty-five and handed Yessica a broom without explanation."Start with the front step," Agnes said. "Edinburgh rain brings everything in."Yessica started with the front step.Pages Poetry was exactly what it looked like from the outside — narrow, floor-to-ceiling shelves, the particular smell of old paper and wood polish, a radiator that worked too hard in one corner and not at all in another. The kind of bookshop that didn't so much invite customers in as dare them.Agnes had hired her on the spot two days ago. No references, no formal interview. Just a look that went on slightly too long and then: Monday, eight forty-five. Don't be late.Yessica hadn't asked why.She hadn't asked anything. She'd just said yes.By ten AM, she'd swept the front step, reorganized the poetry shelf Agnes told her was "a disaster waiting for someone to care enough," and sold a copy of Muriel Spark to a woman in a

POV: Yessica | Location: EdinburghAgnes was already holding the paper when Yessica walked in Monday morning.She set it on the counter without a word.Opinion section. Third page.On Starting Over: What It Takes to Leave Everything BehindBy Yessica LockwoodYessica stared at her name in print for a long time.Her real name. Not Sterling. Not Mrs. anything.Lockwood."When did you submit this?" Agnes asked."Three weeks ago. On a whim." Yessica touched the edge of the page. "I didn't actually expect them to—""Well, they did." Agnes folded her hands on the counter. "Go ahead. Read it.""I wrote it. I know what it says.""Read it anyway. It's different when it's real."Yessica read it.It was different when it was real.The words were hers — but seeing them laid out on a printed page, in black ink, in a newspaper people were reading on the bus right now — made them feel like they belonged to the world instead of just to her. The grief and the clarity and the quiet determination she'd

POV: Yessica | Location: EdinburghThe flat was very quiet.Edinburgh in the pre-dawn held its breath. The bakery below hadn't started yet. No smell of bread. No street noise. Just Yessica, her phone, and Catherine Sterling's voice on the other end."I see you're not going to say hello," Catherine said."What do you want."Not a question. A statement. Yessica pressed her back against the wall, hand flat on her stomach."Directness. How refreshing." Catherine's voice carried that particular quality of someone accustomed to being the most composed person in any room. "I want to speak with my daughter-in-law.""I'm not your daughter-in-law.""You're still married to my son. So yes, Yessica, you are."The use of her name — unhurried, deliberate — made her skin crawl."It's seven in the morning.""I'm aware. I've been awake since five. One of the advantages of not running from anything is that one sleeps rather well." A beat. "But we're not here to discuss my sleep schedule.""Then say wha

POV: Yessica | Location: Edinburgh"Come in," Yessica said.Not a welcome. A tactic. Keep her off the street. Control the space.Diana Holt stepped inside Pages Poetry like she'd been invited for tea. Unhurried. Confident. Her charcoal coat didn't lose a crease when she moved.Yessica let the door close behind her and stayed near it.Agnes appeared from the back — tea towel in hand, eyes sharp and immediate. She took one look at Diana's coat, at Yessica's face, and set the towel down without a word. Positioned herself behind the counter.Present. Watching."Catherine speaks highly of the shop," Diana said, scanning the shelves with polite interest. "She said you'd made something of yourself. I can see it.""What does Catherine want?""She wants you to understand your options clearly." Diana turned to face her. Up close, her eyes were shrewd — not cruel, but entirely uninterested in Yessica's comfort. "Before the situation becomes more adversarial than it needs to be.""We spoke twelve

POV: Yessica | Location: EdinburghAgnes turned onto George Street and didn't speak.Neither did Yessica.The Volvo moved through lunch-hour traffic — delivery vans, cyclists, a tour bus disgorging Japanese tourists onto the wet pavement near the Balmoral. Normal Edinburgh. Normal Tuesday. The world entirely unconcerned with the fact that a man had just watched Yessica walk out of her solicitor's office and then turned away when she saw him."He warned you," Agnes said finally. "About your father.""Yes.""That's not something an investigator does. Not if he's loyal to whoever hired him."Yessica looked out the window. The New Town buildings slid past in gray precision. Georgian and permanent and absolutely indifferent."He's not loyal," she said."To anyone?""I don't know yet."Agnes stopped at a red light. "Are you going to call him?"Yessica already had her phone in her hand. The text from two nights ago still sat in her messages — Graham Wells. I thought you should know.She pres