Chapter 3

3.

Once we stepped inside the apartment, Garrett rushed over to hug me.

I pushed him away, and he put on a wounded look.

"Babe, what's wrong?"

"I shouldn't have doubted you. But why didn't you tell me you were going out? I could have picked you up."

I stared at Garrett's face. It hadn't changed much since our college days.

Yet all I could see in my mind was the reflection on that hotel glass.

Murky, shameless, and completely repulsive.

Sensing my distance, Garrett lowered his voice into a gentle tone.

"I know I haven't spent much time with you lately, babe. The company has just been crazy busy."

"Didn't you say you wanted to go to Hawaii? Once you have the baby and recover, I'll take you there, okay?"

I had asked to go to Hawaii three years ago.

Back then, he constantly claimed he had no time, yet he refused to let me go alone, saying it wasn't safe for a woman.

Now that he was offering to go, I felt nothing but disgust.

He didn't actually want to take me. It was just a cheap promise to keep me docile.

Besides, the baby was already gone. There was no child to wait for.

I stared at my phone, refusing to look at him.

Feeling snubbed, Garrett pulled out his own phone.

Right then, a new post popped up on social media from Chloe.

"Power outage in my room. I'm so scared all by myself…"

I glanced at Garrett. A flicker of panic crossed his face before he quickly masked it with a calm smile.

"Sierra, something urgent came up at the office. I have to head over right now."

I looked straight at him. "What is it? Did the office lose power?"

Without missing a beat, Garrett smiled smoothly. "A project ran into some glitches. I need to check on it."

Garrett was always an exceptional actor.

If he weren't, I wouldn't have abandoned my family's empire to help him build his business from scratch.

Pretending to believe him, I gave a faint smile. "Go ahead."

Not long after he left, Chloe updated her feed again.

"What does it feel like to have a boss who gives you total security?"

The photo showed the back of a man cooking at a stove.

I knew that silhouette better than anyone.

I zoomed in on the picture, examining every detail with cruel detachment.

He had rolled the sleeves of his black sweater up to his forearms, the muscles flexing as he held the spatula.

His wrist was bare.

The bracelet I had gifted him was removed and casually tossed on the counter.

I supposed it got in the way of cooking.

He was willing to cook for Chloe, yet he hadn't cooked a single meal for me in years.

The last time I had a stomachache and asked for some light porridge, he told me he had forgotten how to cook.

Then he ordered greasy takeout that made me nauseous.

His emotional detachment had shown signs long ago, but I had kept making excuses for him.

Ever since his company, G&S Digital, took off four years ago, he had grown increasingly distant.

Even though he maintained a facade of affection, he had stopped caring about the little things.

After Chloe became his assistant two years ago, he spent even less time at home.

I stood up and looked around the small two-bedroom apartment.

We had bought this place with the profits from our very first major contract.

It was small, but it held seven years of our shared history.

Pottery we shaped together, pebbles we collected from our trips, and seashells from the coast.

Countless memories were displayed neatly on the wall shelves.

I just didn't know when all that genuine love had turned into cheap deception.