**Chapter 1**
The moment my boss ushered the CEO into the conference room, time seemed to stand still. My heart raced, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
“Mr. Scott, this is our team,” my boss introduced, his voice echoing in the suddenly tense air.
It was him. Thomas Scott, my ex-husband. The man who had once held my heart in his hands, only to shatter it three years ago when he chose his first love over me.
As I stood frozen, his gaze locked onto mine, a myriad of emotions flickered across his face—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a hint of regret. His brow furrowed slightly, and I could see the weight of our shared history in his eyes.
My seasoned boss, ever perceptive, caught the tension in the air. He shot a quick glance at me, a knowing look that screamed, *You two have a past.*
After a brief pause, he cleared his throat and said, “I’ll be handling the project. Riley, why don’t you tidy up the conference room and head out?”
I could sense his frantic attempt to shield me from this unexpected encounter.
But Thomas had other plans. “That won’t be necessary,” he interjected, his voice steady yet firm. “This project needs to be handled by Riley Addison. Mr. Hill, if you’re considering swapping her out, then the deal is off.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with implication. The room fell into an awkward silence, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
“Mr. Scott… this… Okay, okay! Riley, you make sure to have a good talk with Mr. Scott!” My boss’s voice broke the stillness as he hurriedly ushered everyone else out, leaving just Thomas and me alone in the conference room.
As the door clicked shut behind him, I felt the weight of the moment settle between us. His eyes glistened slightly, and when he spoke, his voice cracked, revealing the vulnerability beneath his composed exterior. “Where did you go these past two years? Why didn’t you answer my messages?”
In that instant, a flood of memories surged through me like a tidal wave, dragging me back to the pain I had fought so hard to bury. But I was no longer the emotional wreck I had once been. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders, and replied coolly, “Then please have a seat, Mr. Scott. I’ll walk you through the project proposal.”
There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes, a flicker of confusion as he processed my calm demeanor. He sat down, and I could see him grappling with the reality of our situation. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. “As long as you’re in charge of this project, I’ll sign.”
I nodded, though a part of me felt a twinge of uncertainty. “That might be a little difficult,” I replied, trying to maintain my professional facade.
With a raised eyebrow, Thomas called my boss back into the room and repeated his earlier statement. The grin that spread across Mr. Hill’s face was infectious, and he readily agreed to the arrangement.
Once Thomas Scott had left, I sat there, my mind awash with thoughts.
For the past two years, I had diligently reminded myself to let go of the past, to move forward, to forget.
*It’s not worth it,* I would tell myself.
Yet, the more I tried to push those memories away, the clearer they became, haunting me with their vividness. They tormented me, relentless in their pursuit.
I had finally clawed my way out of that darkness, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would cross paths with Thomas Scott again so soon.
We had been married for five years, a whirlwind romance that began in high school and blossomed into what I thought was a lifelong commitment.
On our fifth anniversary, he had splurged at an auction, acquiring a priceless artifact—the legendary “Twin Flames” diamond. It was a treasure that had been lost to time, and he had donated it to the National Museum in honor of his first love, Peyton Kennedy.
During a press interview, his gaze had been soft as he looked at her, filled with an adoration that I had never received. “This ‘Twin Flames’ diamond is a birthday gift for Peyton. After we discussed it, she decided to donate it to the National Museum, free of charge,” he had said, his voice dripping with sincerity.
“We hope all of our nation’s lost treasures can eventually find their way home, back to the side of their beloved.”
The moment that interview went live, it spread like wildfire.
Everyone knew about Thomas Scott’s undying love for Peyton Kennedy.
Netizens swooned over their seemingly perfect love story, while my phone buzzed with passive-aggressive messages from friends.
“Riley, looks like your husband is in love.”
“Congrats.”
After typing a curt response, I scrolled through the comments, my heart sinking further with each one I read.
“Is this what a CEO’s love story looks like? I’m so here for it.”
“Childhood sweethearts plus first love? She hit the relationship jackpot!”
A bitter smile crept onto my face as I shook my head, the weight of it all settling heavily on my chest.
I quietly finished the dinner I had spent the entire day preparing, the flavors now a dull reminder of what could have been.
I glanced at the vibrant peonies I had arranged, freshly flown in that morning. They were his favorite, a cruel reminder of the love that had once bloomed between us.
Everywhere I looked, the decorations seemed to mock me, whispering of a celebration that had turned into a farce.
Our fifth anniversary. He had been the one to insist I prepare for it, and I had eagerly complied, filled with anticipation.
I waited and waited, only to discover that it had all been a ruse, a ploy to keep me at bay while he rekindled a flame long extinguished.
In that video, his expression had been so gentle, so tender as he gazed at Peyton, while with me, he wore an icy mask of indifference.
In that moment, I felt utterly drained, as if I had been holding my breath for far too long, and now, I was finally gasping for air.
The other shoe had dropped, and the realization hit me like a freight train.
I had once thought that his stoic demeanor was simply part of who he was—that he was not a naturally affectionate person.
But now, I understood the truth: it was never about him; it was about me.
My love story with him?
It had been a beautiful lie, one I had crafted in my mind, while he had never believed it.
I decided it was time to sever those ties, to stop the self-inflicted torment.
I picked up my phone and dialed his number.
“Where are you?”
Even through the line, I could hear Peyton’s cheerful laughter in the background, a sound that cut through me like a knife. Yet, Thomas remained unfazed, his tone as cold as ever.
“Working late.”
His reply was curt, barely more than a whisper, as if he couldn’t even muster the effort to concoct a more elaborate lie.
The laughter faded, replaced by the oppressive silence that filled the void between us.
“Thomas, I’m tired. Let’s get a divorce.”
The conviction in my voice hung in the air, and for a moment, there was silence on the other end. Then, his anger erupted like a volcano.
“Riley, are you insane? What the hell is this now? If you’re crazy, go get help. Stop bothering me.”
“I’ll send you the divorce papers. All you have to do is sign,” I stated firmly, hanging up before he could respond, ignoring the rage I knew was boiling on the other end.
I surveyed the room, so familiar yet so foreign.
In this very space, I had done his laundry, prepared his meals, dried his hair, washed his feet, and given him countless massages to ease his stress.
I had comforted him in his moments of need, but after five years of marriage, I finally understood the painful truth.
No matter how much I did for him, it would never be enough. I was not the one he wanted.
Whatever she did was right, and I… I was merely a placeholder, a distraction when she wasn’t around.
A way to pass the time, better than nothing.
