Chapter 3

3.

"I'm fine, Graham."

Nina huddled in Graham’s arms, her voice trembling with sobs, but every word she spoke was a pointed arrow aimed at Evelyn.

"I was just worried Evelyn would be bored waiting for you, so I tried to talk to her about your recent projects. But… I think she might have misunderstood our relationship and got a little upset. I tried to take her hand to explain, but I'm so clumsy. I accidentally knocked over the lunch, and now you have nothing to eat."

Nina clutched the fabric of Graham’s expensive suit, her eyes red, looking like a frightened deer.

Graham looked at the red, swollen patch on the back of her hand, his brow furrowed with concern. He didn't even glance at his wife standing nearby.

"Forget about the lunch. I'll have my secretary order something else. Your hand is burned. We need to treat it right away."

With that, Graham swept Nina up into his arms. The movement was urgent and natural, as if they had practiced this intimate gesture countless times. He carried her and strode toward the private lounge where there was a first-aid kit.

As he passed Evelyn, he paused, his eyes dark as he looked at her.

"I'm taking Nina to get that treated. Nina represents the Vance family's goodwill! Evelyn, you've gone too far. If your jealousy messes up this relationship, can you bear the consequences? We are going to have a serious talk about this when I get back."

Talk?

Evelyn stood there, staring at the messy pasta sauce on the floor. It looked just like her shattered dignity.

He hadn't asked a single question, but his words had already declared her guilty. She was the vicious wife who had lost control out of jealousy, and Nina was the innocent victim. He hadn't even given her a chance to explain, not even for a second.

A deeply ironic smile spread across Evelyn’s face.

She didn't wait for him to come back.

Watching the man's back as he hurried away carrying another woman, she turned and walked out of the office without a second glance. She went straight downstairs, and outside the revolving doors of the Hayes Tower, she hailed a yellow cab. She didn't want to call her driver; she didn't want anyone to see her in this state.

"Chelsea, West 25th Street," she said, giving the address of her studio.

Seven years ago, after they got married, she had received a high-paying partnership offer from a top architecture firm in Los Angeles. It was her dream job. But to stay in New York and support Graham's fledgling career, she had turned it down and opened an independent design studio in Chelsea with a few friends from college.

A year later, the Hayes Corporation went public on NASDAQ, becoming the new darling of Wall Street.

At the celebration party that night, at the highest rooftop bar in Manhattan, Graham had gotten down on one knee in front of all their partners, holding a massive pink diamond ring.

"Without your support and sacrifice, there would be no Graham Hayes today. Evelyn, you are more than a wife to me. You are my whole world, my partner, my muse."

In that moment, Evelyn's heart had trembled. Even for someone who grew up in the world of fame and fortune, she couldn't resist the sincerity of that moment. She knew she had fallen hopelessly in love with this man and had decided to commit to that feeling.

She didn't regret falling in love with Graham. That was a choice she made in her youth.

But she wouldn't regret leaving him now, either. This was the awakening of her adulthood.

The studio smelled of coffee and ink.

A few of her partners were gathered around a blueprint, looking up in surprise as she walked in.

"Evelyn? Weren't you at the Hayes Corporation? Why do you look so pale?"

"Have you made up your mind? About the Berlin project?" one of her friends, Chloe, asked, sensing something was wrong.

Evelyn took a deep breath and nodded. Her eyes held a trace of sadness, but mostly, they showed relief.

"Yes. I'm moving to Berlin. The ticket is already booked."

The studio fell silent.

"Oh my god, Evelyn, you're leaving New York?!"

"We've all seen your talent. Without you these past seven years, our studio wouldn't have won so many international awards. We don't want to see you waste your talent for your family. If you've really made up your mind… to hell with Hayes. We'll all support you!"

Evelyn smiled, her eyes getting a little teary.

"Thank you, everyone. When you have time, come visit me in Berlin. I'll treat you to the best dark beer."

She pulled out a box she had prepared earlier and started packing her personal belongings―hard drives, design sketches, the drawing pen she had used for so long…

After Evelyn left, the others in the studio exchanged glances, a bit of sorrow in their eyes.

"Do you think something major happened between Evelyn and Graham? With her personality, she wouldn't just drop everything and go to Berlin at a time like this."

"That man doesn't deserve her. Evelyn is not a canary in a golden cage. She's an eagle. Once she decides to soar, she won't look back for anyone."

When she returned to her home on the Upper East Side, Evelyn received a call from her mother.

The Reed family was having a dinner at their estate on Long Island tonight. Her mother wanted her to bring Graham, and they could also discuss the family fund's investment strategy for the next quarter.

She was about to make an excuse when an Instagram Story from Nina popped up on her phone.

[So thankful to have someone who stands firmly by my side when I’m at my most vulnerable. #Blessed #MyHero]

The picture showed a bandaged hand next to a man’s wrist wearing a Patek Philippe Nautilus watch.

It was the watch she had given Graham for their wedding anniversary last year.

Her hand paused. After a moment of silence, Evelyn spoke into the phone, her voice hoarse.

"Mom, don't wait for Graham. It'll just be me tonight."

After dinner at her parents' house, she spent a long time in the study with her father, discussing the business world and trying to maintain a calm facade. By the time her driver dropped her off at their home on 72nd Street, it was nearly eleven at night.

She pushed the door open. The living room was dimly lit by a single floor lamp.

Graham was sitting on the sofa, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his tie loosened. He looked tired.

"You went to Long Island tonight? Why didn't you tell me? I could have canceled my evening meeting to go with you."

"Weren't you busy?"

Graham frowned, putting down his glass. He looked confused, as if the unpleasantness at the office that afternoon had never happened.

"As I recall, you spent the whole afternoon with Nina," Evelyn said, her tone flat as she took off her shoes and walked past him toward the stairs.

"I was too harsh this morning. My tone was off," Graham said, standing up and catching her by the wrist.

"Nina's brother, Caleb, was in the meeting room next door. If he found out his sister got hurt at my office, it could have jeopardized the deal. Are you jealous? Evelyn, you know this is all for the company. We have to maintain that relationship."

Evelyn stopped but didn't turn around. She lowered her eyes, hiding her emotions. Her voice was as cold as a glass of water left out for too long.

"Mhm, I get it. I never thought anything of it."

She was too tired to expose Graham's lies. One lie just led to countless others to cover it up. Maybe he had said it so many times he even believed his own bullshit about "business relations."

A late apology is worth less than nothing.

Graham looked at her indifferent back, a slight frown on his face, an inexplicable frustration rising in him. He ignored her attempt to pull away, and his other hand wrapped around her waist, a hint of appeasement in his gesture as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"Don't be angry. Tonight…"

"Not tonight. I have a migraine."

The moment he touched her, she smelled the mix of whiskey and Nina's perfume on him, and a wave of nausea washed over her.

She forcefully pried his hand off and walked straight into the master bedroom, closing the door behind her and―locking it.

Click.

The house fell silent again.

Graham stood at the top of the stairs, staring at the closed door, his eyes swirling with emotion. For some reason, an unprecedented sense of panic washed over him. He felt like something was slipping out of his control, like sand running through his fingers.