Chapter 3

3.

Maybe out of lingering guilt, she woke up early the next morning and made breakfast.

She held up a plate with a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. "Your favorite."

It was her classic routine whenever she messed up.

She always thought a cheap, half-hearted gesture could wipe away her betrayal.

In the past, I might have softened up. Today, I felt nothing.

"Not hungry," I said flatly. "I'm heading to work."

As I reached the garage, she rushed over, out of breath. "Let's ride together."

I stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't you the one who insisted we keep things separate?"

She was a major shareholder at Apex Corp, and I was a senior project manager.

She had strictly forbidden me from making our relationship public.

In the office, she always acted like we were total strangers.

Realizing her own hypocrisy, she offered an awkward excuse.

"Nobody is going to see us in the garage."

I did not argue and reached for the passenger door.

The seat was piled high with plush toys, and a customized sticker read: Drake's VIP Seat.

Chelsea looked flustered and hurriedly tossed the toys into the back.

"Drake carpools with me sometimes," she stammered. "He was just messing around."

A wave of bitterness rushed up my throat.

When I rode in her car, leaving a single stray hair would make her furious.

Once, I accidentally dropped my wallet in her cup holder, and she threw a fit, tossing it in my face and threatening to throw it in the trash if it happened again.

Yet now, she happily let another grown man turn her car into his personal playground.

Watching her struggle to clear the mess, I grew tired of it.

"Don't bother. I'll take my own car."

I turned toward my sedan, but she grabbed my arm.

"Let me drive. We haven't spent time together in so long."

I looked at the faint panic in her eyes and decided not to waste time arguing.

I was running late, and I did not want to cause a scene.