The Wife He Forgot Was The One He Loved Most Chapter 03
I picked a nice day to go back to Sinclair Group and hand in my resignation.
At the base of the building I looked up.
When I’d first started, the glass curtain wall had looked terrifyingly imposing. Now, it was just a building.
Receptionist. Administrative assistant. Supervisor. All the way up to manager.
I’d watched other people come and go through that revolving door for years. Now it was my turn to spin out through it.
In the elevator, a few colleagues went straight to their phones the second they saw me, though their eyes kept drifting my way.
The X thing had probably been circulating in the internal group chats a hundred times over by now.
Coming in to file my papers was, in effect, standing in front of them and stamping the rumor as true.
I was packing up at my desk when a voice with an edge came from behind me.
Rachel Kemper—the rival I’d been quietly measuring myself against for years—was leaning on the divider.
“Manager Whitmore packing up in person? You should have said. I’d have called you a U-Haul.”
She cocked her head. “By the way, Starbucks downstairs is hiring baristas. Want me to put in a word?”
Two younger colleagues nearby were biting back laughter, shoulders shaking.
I unlocked my phone, pulled up the Columbia acceptance email, and shoved the screen right in her face.
“Part-time MPA. Public administration. Classes start next week.”
“You remember that bid case? You nearly lost your job over that one. Sure you’ve got the bandwidth to worry about other people?”
Rachel’s face went through a couple of colors before she stalked off.
I carried my box out of the building, and at a red light, let out a long breath.
Back at the apartment, I’d barely sat down when there was rapid knocking at the door.
I opened it to Ethan, his face like a thundercloud.
“Vivienne was in a car accident. Was it you? Did you send someone?”
I sucked in a breath.
“Are you out of your mind? I was at the office all afternoon handing in my resignation.”
“Who else has a grudge with her, if not you?” He clamped a hand around my wrist, his knuckles pressing into bone.
I twisted away. “Let go. Pull the office footage—it wasn’t me!”
He wasn’t listening. He hauled me toward the car.
The car pulled up outside a private hospital.
I pushed open the door to the hospital room and there was Stella, pacing in tight circles like a cat on a hot stove.
When she heard us she came rushing over, nodded at me first, then turned to Ethan with a guilty little smile.
“Ethan, I messed up! I honestly didn’t think there would be an accident—” her voice cracked.
“I just wanted Vivienne to reach out and get you to meet her at that restaurant we all used to go to. I thought maybe if the setting was right, you’d remember something! How was I supposed to know she’d rear-end someone on the way over…”
On the bed, Vivienne fisted the sheet, her face ashen.
The pressure of Ethan’s hand on my wrist suddenly slackened.
His fingers slid down along my wrist bone. “What did you say?”
Stella bounced on the spot.
“Ethan, you can’t divorce her! When you snuck off to City Hall to sign the papers with Anna, Dad was so furious he almost cut you off!”
“If you actually divorce her, the day you remember you’ll want to slap yourself silly!”
I knew why Stella cared so much.
Last year she’d been camping with friends when a flash flood hit. I’d donated two units of AB negative and pulled her back from the edge.
Ethan stood there for a long time, then finally turned around and apologized to me.
“…I had it wrong. I’m sorry.”
I looked down at the ring of red his grip had left on my wrist, and gave a small laugh. “How’s Ms. Ashford doing?”
He turned his head, glanced at Vivienne, and said nothing.
Stella insisted on driving me home.
Two blocks in, at a red light, she went quiet for a long time. Then she turned her head suddenly.
“Anna, there’s something I never told you. The reason Ethan broke up with Vivienne back then… he caught her cheating.”
“After the breakup, he wouldn’t let anyone say her name in front of him.”
Stella sniffled. “He doesn’t remember any of that now. Could you—could you just not rush into the divorce?”
I leaned against the passenger seat, taking a long time to digest it.
“Stella. Thank you for telling me this.”
“So you’ll stay?” She pulled the car up to my building and looked at me with big pleading eyes.
I sighed. “Ethan and I splitting up has nothing to do with her.”
“Then what’s it about?” Her eyes went round.
I hesitated, then swallowed the answer.
I could hardly tell her it was because we barely had a sex life.