Chapter 3

3

I returned to my suite, and barely five minutes later, Celeste knocked on my door.

As she stepped under the warm hallway light, I immediately noticed her red, swollen eyes and the bruised corner of her lip.

The flush on her lips spoke volumes about the intimate moments she had just shared with Gavin.

I didn't say a word, simply walking over to the bed to lie down, which instantly ignited her temper.

“Clayton, who are you giving that cold attitude to? I just got back so late, can’t you show a little concern for your wife?”

I opened my eyes halfway, staring at her until she shifted uncomfortably.

“You were with Gavin Pierce. What could possibly be dangerous about that?”

My indifferent tone made her think I was merely throwing a jealous tantrum.

“You don’t have to be so passive-aggressive. Gavin is very sick, and I’m just doing my best to be there for him.”

“Mm,” I replied softly, refusing to engage further.

Celeste put her hands on her hips, her frustration boiling over.

“Clayton, Gavin is a dying man with kidney failure! Why do you have to be so petty? He grew up in poverty, something a rich heir like you could never understand!”

She sank onto the sofa and began to weep.

I didn’t know whether she was crying over Gavin’s impending death or regretting her marriage to me.

None of it mattered anymore, because this time, I was walking away for good.

The first time I saw Gavin was two years ago on my birthday.

Celeste had vanished from our house after receiving a single phone call, claiming an old friend was in the hospital.

Worried about her, I drove over, only to witness her doting on Gavin by his bedside.

She had never shown me that level of tenderness, often needing reminders just to remember my birthday.

She sat by his bed, wiping his brow, talking softly, and catering to his every need.

I admit I was jealous back then, and I hated Gavin with every fiber of my being.

But two years of repeated heartache had shown me the truth: no matter how well I treated Celeste, her heart would never belong to me.

Watching her sob on the sofa, I didn't get up to comfort her like I used to.

Suddenly, a sharp cry of distress came from the room next door.

Celeste wiped her tears instantly and sprinted out the door.

I followed her to the open doorway and saw her wrapping her arms tightly around Gavin.

“Gavin, what happened? Are you okay?”

Celeste held him in her embrace, whispering soothing words and recounting sweet memories from their youth to calm him down.

Standing in the doorway, I realized I was nothing more than an intruder in their world.

“Clayton, go back to sleep,” Celeste said without looking up. “Gavin developed severe anxiety after getting sick and can’t sleep alone. I’m staying with him tonight.”

I turned around silently, walked back to my room, and opened my laptop to draft a divorce settlement.