Chapter 3

Britteny POV:

Beau strode across the room and yanked me up by my collar, so hard the chair scraped back and tipped.

"Answer me!" he barked.

I froze, my hands coming up to grip his wrists.

"What?"

"Kamilah tried to kill herself! You know she has severe depression, and you still provoked her!"

My throat tightened until I could barely breathe. After a beat of silence, I forced the words out.

"I only told her you were home."

His face darkened, and he shoved me backward onto the chair.

"If anything happens to Kamilah, I won't let you off the hook."

He slammed the door and left the estate. Two hours later, I heard tires crunching on the gravel driveway while I was packing my suitcase. Stepping out of the bedroom, I walked to the second-floor railing and looked down into the living room.

Beau was carefully helping a woman sit on the sofa. She wore a simple white button-down shirt, her frame slender and delicate, with thick white gauze wrapped around her right wrist.

As if sensing my gaze, Kamilah looked up. Four years of hearing her name, and I was finally looking at the woman who owned my husband's heart. Her skin was porcelain-pale, her eyes wide and watery. Even as a woman, I could see why Beau was obsessed with her.

Beau followed her gaze and looked up at me, his dark brows pulling into a hard knot.

I curled my fingers into my palms and walked down the stairs. The moment my foot touched the bottom step, Kamilah stood up.

"Beau, this is your and Britteny's home," she said softly. "It's not right for me to recover here. I should go back to my apartment."

She turned toward the front door, her steps unsteady.

Beau caught her arm and shot me a freezing glare, silently blaming me for her slit wrist.

"Kamilah is staying here until she recovers," he announced.

Kamilah tugged lightly at his sleeve, lowering her lashes.

"Beau, don't be like this. What I did has nothing to do with Britteny. My illness flared up and I lost control."

"I don't trust the hospital staff," Beau said, his voice softening into a tone he had never used with me. "I've called my private physician. You're staying put until your wrist heals."

Kamilah looked at me with an apologetic smile.

"Britteny, please don't overthink this. Beau and I grew up together. He's just looking out for me as a friend."

My face remained blank.

"I won't."

Beau eased her back onto the couch, leaning in to ask if her wrist still hurt. He didn't spare me a single glance. Standing three feet away, I felt like an intruder in another dimension.

My throat bobbed. I wanted to end this farce right now.

"Beau, we are done—"

A shrill ringtone from Kamilah's bag cut me off. Beau immediately pulled out her phone and hit accept.

"It's Chloe," he said warmly.

"Mommy! Uncle Beau!" A little girl's high-pitched voice rang out from the speaker.

Beau sat down right next to Kamilah, his shoulder pressing against hers so they both fit into the video frame.

"Wow, is this Mommy's new house?" Chloe asked. "Is Uncle Beau happy living there?"

Kamilah's eyes curved gently.

"Yes, sweetie. Wait just a little longer. Once Mommy feels better, I'll bring you over."

"Yay! Then I can sleep in the same bed with Uncle Beau!"

Watching their heads pressed together, a suffocating weight crushed my chest. With Kamilah in the house, I couldn't even get ten seconds to finish a sentence.

I turned around and walked back upstairs without a sound. In the bedroom, I pulled the divorce agreement out of my bag. Looking at Beau's scrawled signature on the last page, a dry laugh escaped my lips. When I handed it to him two days ago, he had been too busy texting Kamilah to even read the title page before signing.

I had wanted a clean, quiet exit, yet the whole thing was a solo performance.

"I told you to look after Kamilah, and you're hiding up here slacking off?"

I looked up. Beau stood in the doorway, his eyes devoid of any warmth. Since he was here, I could tell him the truth.

"Beau, we need to talk—"

"Go downstairs and make some porridge for Kamilah," he cut in, turning his back on me.