Husband Abandoned Me, I Married Billionaire

The second he saw Vivian, Preston's anger flipped into tender concern.

He rushed over and drew her into the room.

"Vivian — what are you doing up here? It's windy outside. I told you to wait in the car."

Vivian bit her bottom lip. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, one after another.

"I was afraid — afraid Chloe was still angry with me. I wanted to apologize to her in person."

"Chloe — I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your show. I — I just read your message, and I lost control of my emotions."

As she spoke she folded herself deeper into Preston's chest.

Watching her — the whole, practiced little performance of it — made me physically nauseous.

"Vivian. Stop with the act in front of me. If you lose control of your emotions, go check yourself into a psychiatric ward. Why are you showing up at my home?"

I wasn't kind about it.

Preston went off instantly.

"Chloe! Do you have to be this cruel? Vivian already hates herself enough!"

I looked at him, cold all the way through.

"Cruel? You wrecked three years of my work. You waltz in with the one who caused it, crying in your arms, and you expect me to be grateful?"

Abruptly, Vivian clutched her chest and started gasping.

"Pres... I can't breathe... my pills..."

Preston panicked, patted down his pockets for her pill bottle.

"Vivian, don't do this to me! Take your medicine!"

He got the pills into her mouth, swept her up in his arms, and bolted.

"Chloe — we are not done with this! If anything happens to Vivian, I swear to God I will never forgive you!"

He walked out with her without looking back.

I watched them leave, cool as I could manage.

"Mind the door on your way out."

The door slammed. The apartment went quiet.

I walked Rowan to the couch and fetched antiseptic and fresh gauze from the first-aid kit.

"Let me see your hand. See if you've popped a stitch."

Rowan obediently held out his right hand. He watched me with something complicated in his eyes.

"Chloe. You've changed."

I didn't look up from the bandage.

"People don't change unless they're pushed. I used to think taking a step back would give everyone more room. People just took more."

Rowan let out a soft laugh.

"This way is better. Less of you to get stepped on."

"...Though, Mr. Hartley does seem very invested in that girl."

I paused for a beat and went back to the gauze, tone deliberately casual.

"Let him be. I stopped caring a long time ago."

Rowan looked at me, and something glinted behind his eyes that I couldn't quite place.

"Chloe... if — just suppose — you were single. Would you consider someone else?"

I looked up. I hit his eyes dead-on. There was a small, banked fire in them.

"I don't have the energy to think about any of that right now. Worry about yourself. Your hand's done. What are you going to do now?"

Rowan lowered his eyes and covered whatever had been in them.

"I don't know. Day by day. As long as I can stay near you, I don't mind doing anything."

I took it as a joke and didn't think twice about it.

After I settled Rowan in the guest room, I went into the master bedroom. I stood at the edge of the empty king bed, looked at it for a long moment, then dumped Preston's pillow and quilt outside the door.

If he liked caretaking so much, he didn't need to come back to this bed.