Leaving Rey for Rhett

Morning light streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows as I stepped into Rhett's penthouse apartment. The space was nothing like the traditional Sullivan family estate—all clean lines, neutral tones, and minimalist furniture. It felt like a fresh start.

"Is this okay?" Rhett asked, hovering near the door. "I can have the staff rearrange anything you don't like."

I set down my single suitcase on the polished concrete floor. "It's perfect."

And it was. Unlike the ornate, suffocating luxury I'd lived with for fifty years of my previous life, this place felt like breathing room. No family portraits, no ancestral symbols, no reminders of obligations and expectations.

"I'll show you your room," Rhett said, leading me down a hallway. "You can decorate it however you want."

My room. Not our room. He was giving me space, respecting boundaries I hadn't even realized I needed.

"I brought very little," I admitted, gesturing to my suitcase. "Just personal things."

Rhett's eyes flickered with understanding. "You left everything else behind."

"Everything Rey ever gave me." I met his gaze steadily. "The jewelry, the clothes, the engagement ring he had commissioned but never gave me. All of it."

Rhett didn't push for details. Instead, he opened a door to reveal a spacious bedroom with a view of the city skyline. "This can be your sanctuary. No one enters without your permission. Not even me."

The words hung between us, heavy with meaning. In my previous life, Rey had never respected my boundaries, physical or emotional.

---

My phone vibrated for the fifth time that morning. Rey's name flashed across the screen. Again.

I silenced it and returned to my coffee, watching raindrops race down the window of Rhett's kitchen. Three days had passed since the announcement. Three days of relentless texting, calling, and now...

"Miss Knight?" The doorman's voice crackled through the intercom. "Mr. Sullivan is here to see you. He's quite... insistent."

"I'm not available," I replied, my voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in my chest. "Please escort him out."

"Scottie!" Rey's voice boomed in the background. "I know you're up there! We need to talk!"

I cut the connection and turned to find Rhett watching me, concern etched across his features.

"He won't stop," I said quietly.

"This is the third time this week," Rhett observed, his jaw tightening. "I can speak with him if you'd like."

"No." I shook my head firmly. "I need to handle this myself."

Later that afternoon, Rey appeared at my office building. I was leaving a meeting when I spotted him in the lobby, demanding information from the receptionist.

"You can't avoid me forever," he said when he saw me, striding forward. "What game are you playing with my brother?"

I kept my voice low, aware of the curious eyes around us. "This isn't a game, Rey. Please leave."

"You're using him to hurt me," he hissed, gripping my arm. "After everything we've been through—"

"Mr. Sullivan," the security guard interrupted, appearing at my side. "Miss Knight has requested you leave the premises."

Rey's eyes narrowed. "This isn't over."

---

Two weeks later, the annual Children's Hospital Charity Gala glittered with New York's elite. I stood beside Rhett, his hand warm against the small of my back as we navigated the crowd.

"You look stunning," he whispered, his eyes taking in my midnight blue gown.

Before I could respond, a commotion near the entrance caught our attention. Rey strode in, his bow tie slightly askew, his eyes scanning the room until they locked on me.

"Scottie!" he called out, loud enough to turn heads. "We need to talk. Now."

The room quieted as he approached, his movements jerky with barely contained emotion.

"Not here, Rey," I said quietly.

"You're having some kind of breakdown," he announced to the watching crowd, his voice carrying across the suddenly silent ballroom. "She's been acting erratically since her birthday. Making wild accusations, inventing stories—"

"Is that so?" I asked, my voice calm despite the murmurs spreading through the gathering.

Rey faltered at my composure. "You know it is. This... this fixation on Rhett is just a phase. You need help, Scottie."

I met his gaze steadily, feeling the weight of every eye in the room. "Thank you for your concern, Rey. But I'm perfectly well."

Around us, I noticed the subtle shifts in expression—confusion giving way to doubt, doubt to judgment. Not of me, but of him.

"Perhaps," I added softly, "you should consider whether you're the one who needs help."