“He’s really leaving Alicia here alone! I don’t believe it!” Oceane gasped.
With shaking hands, I grabbed my purse and slowly rose.
“Alicia, you deserve better than that bastard! He’ll receive no further funding from me,” Ryder stated loudly.
“Excuse me while I call an Uber,” I murmured, not meeting anyone’s gaze.
“No, you won’t. Ryder and I will take you home,” Oceane offered.
“No. Please stay.” With that, I swiftly walked away, ignoring the people gossiping and staring. A car arrived within minutes, and I fled the event, which had become a cringeworthy embarrassment.
Once home, I headed to bed, curled up, and began crying. Oliver clearly valued Eve over me. That was completely devastating. No matter what Oliver said now, I’d never believe Eve wasn’t his mistress. Which left me exactly where?
“Book the restaurant for our anniversary,” Oliver ordered at breakfast three days later.
I nodded silently as he tapped on his phone.
Oliver stiffened as he looked at something. “What the fuck?” he muttered.
I didn’t pay attention; I wasn’t interested.
“What did you do, Alicia?” Oliver hissed.
Again, I refused to reply. Oliver had been giving me the silent treatment for how I behaved at the event. Claimed I should have backed him up. Eve was his right-hand woman. Only a petty mind would want her alone in the hospital. How spiteful was I? Oliver had demanded, amongst other comments.
“My membership to Chambers has been cancelled. There has to be some mistake. I’ll call them later. This better have nothing to do with you—I’m tired of being punished for your shortcomings and jealousy.”
Like the last three days, I blanked Oliver. I was trying to figure out my next step. In my mind, our marriage was broken. And that was my fault. I’d become a jealous, insecure fool and driven Oliver into Eve’s arms.
“I’ve taken a beating on social media because of your insecurity. Listen up, Alicia, you will book the meal and sit therelooking attentive and loving. Because I’m damn tired of being the bad guy. Understand?” Oliver yelled.
In a rare flash of pique, I turned on my heel and left the kitchen. Screw him. If Oliver didn’t want to be the villain, then he shouldn’t have paraded his mistress so obviously. I had to finish a few designs. Oliver wasn’t my priority.
This felt like déjà vu. I sat in Samuel’s and bit the inside of my lip as I stared at a social media post. After insisting I book a table for our anniversary, Oliver was once again with Eve at another restaurant. If Oliver thought this would embarrass me and make me come to heel, he was mistaken. I was becoming immune to his petty plots. Maybe I wasn’t the one in the wrong.
The waiter approached, and I could see the pity on his face. Yup, he remembered me.
“Apple juice, please,” I said, squaring my shoulders.
“Are you expecting a guest?” he asked.
“Apparently, he’s otherwise occupied. However, I want the menu, please.”
“Bring me top-shelf whiskey neat,” Cain Russell ordered as he pulled the chair out opposite. Ice-green eyes met mine, and I began laughing.
“My anti-hero to the rescue!”
“Of course.”
“Just passing Cain, or stalking me?” I asked, amused.
“May I plead the Fifth?”
“Indeed. Well, let’s order,” I said, handing Cain a menu.
Oliver
It had happened again. Alicia was meant to sit in the restaurant, embarrassed and contrite, and up popped Russell. I was losing control of her and recognised that. I should stay away from Eve, but it was impossible. Eve was addictive. Alicia was the perfect wife, while Eve was the ideal mistress. Instead of creating public scenes, Alicia should learn discretion, especially since something was going on with Russell.
