All Chapters of The Accident Was No Mistake: My CEO Husband Wants Me Back : Chapter 61 - Chapter 69

VALERIE I had decided to move on from Roman Ashford, which was a strange thing to announce to myself, considering I’d been deciding it for almost two months. I had decided it in Boston, in hospital corridors, in the quiet after divorce papers, in Zoey’s living room, in my own kitchen with the taste of him still on my mouth. Apparently decision was not the same thing as follow-through. Moving on could not mean kissing my ex-husband in a doorway and then calling it a relapse with no consequence. If I was going to mean it, it had to start with something practical. Something that did not depend on willpower alone. So today I was doing the most boring, least dramatic thing I could think of. I was going to take Roman’s name off my mother’s emergency contact list. Zoey was right about it. As long as Willow Brook had him listed, he had a perfectly respectable reason to keep landing in the worst moments of my life, and I had no one to blame but a form I’d never gotten around to updating

ROMANI was halfway through a vendor contract when Daniel knocked and put his head around the door.“You have a guest.”“There’s nothing on the calendar until eleven.”“She doesn’t have an appointment.” Daniel’s face was doing the careful, empty thing it did when he knew exactly how I’d react and had decided to be professional about it. “It’s Ms. Laurent.”I set the pen down. Slowly, because for a second I didn’t trust my hand to do it any other way.It had been days since her doorway. Days of not calling, which I’d managed through a combination of work, scotch, and the memory of her saying “get out” in a voice that left no room for interpretation. I had stopped expecting her to come through any door of mine.“Send her in.”She came in,bag on her shoulder, and stopped just inside like she’d drawn a line on the carpet. Dark jeans, gray coat she hadn’t bothered to take off. No makeup to speak of. Her hair was pinned up in a knot that was losing its argument with gravity.“Valerie.”“Rom

VALERIEThere was a short pause on the line.“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” she said, and I could tell she meant it. “Okay. Let’s get you the best answer we can. Once I have the documents I’ll submit it to the records department. It can take up to ten business days. You’ll get a secure link by email, and the link expires after forty-eight hours, so make sure you open it when it comes through.”“Ten business days.”“I know. I’m sorry. I wish I could make it faster. They’re archived in a different system, and a person has to pull them by hand.”“No, that’s fine. Thank you. Really.”She read me a confirmation number, twice, and I typed it on my phone. I wrote it on the back of my hand with the pen I kept in my coat pocket. Then I thanked her again. The call ended, and the street went on being a street.Ten business days. Two weeks, if you counted weekends.I let myself in and turned the sign around.I had left a hand-lettered card on my cafe door that morning.“Opening late today, back by 11”

VALERIE “And I’d like you to come to our Founders’ Tasting.” Iris slid a hand into her bag. “It’s in two weeks, at the townhouse, before the doors open. We’re inviting eight bakeries. Some are very well known. Two have stars on the wall, if you care about that. Each one presents a tasting menu to a small panel of members and investors, and the winner becomes Belmont House’s official pastry partner, with a three-year contract.”I tried not to let my face do anything.Three years. A kitchen. A partner with real money and a name that opened doors in rooms I would never otherwise enter. After the Mercer Street increase, I’d run the numbers on my own business so many times I could do them in my sleep, and I knew exactly what a contract like that meant. It meant the café could breathe. It meant I could hire help, and not count the days until the lease reset. I’d spent months waiting for a stroke of luck, and here it was, sitting across from me in a camel coat.“Why me?” I asked. “You said