Moving On Without You

Nick spent the entire night in Xena’s room.

Mia hadn’t gone out of her way to notice this but Mrs. Zimmer, the housekeeper, had eagerly pulled her into the backyard early that morning to share this “important information” in hushed tones.

“Ma’am, you’ve got to start paying attention!” Mrs. Zimmer said anxiously. “That shameless little vixen, Miss Quinn, is clearly here to seduce Mr. Ford! You wouldn’t believe what she was wearing last night. I couldn’t even look!”

Mia smiled faintly. “You’re overthinking it. Miss Quinn and Nick grew up together, and he holds her in high regard. Please don’t speak badly of her again. Nick wouldn’t be happy if he heard you.”

Mrs. Zimmer froze, her expression bewildered. She looked Mia up and down before hesitantly asking, “Ma’am, what’s going on with you?”

“I’m fine,” Mia replied with a smile. “I’m doing great.”

But that smile looked like a mask welded onto her face.

She would keep smiling. She wouldn’t cry anymore.

“No, something’s definitely off with you today!” Mrs. Zimmer said with certainty. “You used to call Mr. Ford affectionately as ‘Nicky,’ but now you’re using his name—Nick!”

Mia lowered her long, dark lashes and stayed silent.

In truth, when she first got together with Nick, she didn’t call him “Nicky” either. Like his friends, she used to call him “Nick.”

It wasn’t until their first night together that he made her call him “Nicky.”

That night, he had pinned her to the bed, blindfolded her with a strip of black cloth, and, while roughly pulling her hair, demanded she call him “Nicky” over and over.

For the longest time, Mia thought “Nicky” was a special name just for her to use, a sign of their intimacy. The thought had secretly made her happy for quite a while.

It wasn’t until yesterday, when she heard Xena call him “Nicky,” that she realized the truth.

No wonder he had blindfolded her that night.

Her eyes didn’t look like Xena’s.

But her voice sounded similar, so he made her call him “Nicky,” over and over again, as if that was all that mattered.

“Mrs. Zimmer,” Mia said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder, “in a place like this, the most important thing is to focus on your work and keep your thoughts to yourself. Please don’t say anything bad about Miss Quinn anymore.”

She would be leaving soon, and Xena would take her place as the lady of the house.

If Mrs. Zimmer offended Xena, she would certainly pay the price later.

After advising Mrs. Zimmer, Mia went upstairs to grab the divorce papers and then headed to Nick’s study.

Nick was busy working but scoffed when he saw her walk in. “Finally realized you were wrong?”

“Yes,” Mia said flatly. If he said she was wrong, then she would let it be. She was too tired to argue, especially since it would all be over in a few days.

“If you’d figured that out sooner, none of this would’ve been necessary!” Nick said irritably, his tone sharp. He pulled a finely crafted gift box out of a drawer and tossed it onto the desk in front of her. “Here’s a belated birthday gift. Open it.”

Mia wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but her instincts told her that if she refused, Nick would only get angry.

She still needed him to sign the divorce papers, so it was better not to provoke him. Silently, she accepted the gift without a word.

Just then, Nick’s phone rang. Out of the corner of her eye, Mia saw the caller ID—Xena.

Nick glanced at her, then pulled a pair of headphones from the drawer and put them on.

He answered the call, and the cold indifference in his eyes was immediately replaced with a smile. His tone softened, a stark contrast to how he spoke to Mia.

Mia placed the divorce papers on the desk in front of him. “Please sign these.”

Without so much as glancing at them, Nick scribbled his signature and went right back to his call with Xena, his voice warm and affectionate.

Mia frowned slightly, hesitating before asking, “Aren’t you going to check what you just signed?”

“No need,” Nick replied impatiently. “It’s just about hiring foreign specialists for your mom’s treatment, right? Take care of it yourself. If there’s anything that needs my signature, just give it to Assistant Wilson to pass on to me. And stop calling me over nothing. Do you have any idea how many important calls I missed last time because you wouldn’t stop blowing up my phone?”