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He Loved His Sister-in-law, I Married His Rival
In the seventh year of Annette Butler and Nathan Henson's marriage, their son was old enough to start school. Annette took the marriage certificate to handle the enrollment, and the moment the registr...
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第1章
In the seventh year of Annette Butler and Nathan Henson's marriage, their son was old enough to start school.
Annette took the marriage certificate to handle the enrollment, and the moment the registrar opened the file, her face changed.
"You—you're Mr. Henson's wife? But Mr. Henson, he…"
A bad feeling settled over Annette, and she pressed at once for an answer.
The teacher hesitated for a long moment, then, with a complicated look, dug out a photocopy of a marriage certificate and handed it to her.
"Mr. Henson came in before… with this lady, to enroll little Mila Henson."
Annette's hands shook as she took the copy, and when she saw the photo, she nearly fainted on the spot.
She and Nathan had married for business first, and fallen in love after.
After the wedding, Nathan had bent to her every wish, doted on her to the bone. Outside he was all sharp edges and iron, but with her alone he turned gentle and yielding. Annette had never once doubted that he loved her.
Yet now, on this other marriage certificate, the woman beaming beside her husband Nathan was… Naomi James!
The wife of Nathan's late brother. His sister-in-law.
Annette stood frozen, her gaze hollow, the weight in her chest pressing down until she could barely breathe.
…
She left the records office in a daze, the clerk's words echoing in her head.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. The system shows your marital status as single, but the gentleman is married. His spouse is listed as… Naomi James."
It felt as though a piece of her heart had been gouged out. Her mouth twitched without her meaning it to, her lips trembled, and the tears broke loose like a dam giving way.
Just then her phone lit up with a message. From Nathan.
"Annie, today is our seventh wedding anniversary. I pushed back tonight's work and the dinner to be with you."
In all these years Nathan had never once forgotten their anniversary. And yet his lawful wife wasn't her.
Annette pulled at the corner of her mouth, almost wanting to laugh. She crouched down, and what slipped out between her fingers was a broken, smothered sob.
So it had all been fake.
She couldn't help remembering the early days, how carefully he'd noted down every aversion and preference she let slip, how perfectly he'd arranged the wedding and the honeymoon.
After they married, Nathan had treated her like a princess, slipping shoes onto her feet, cooking soup for her with his own hands.
Until one time, when Annette was away on a business trip in another state, and it happened to fall on Nathan's birthday.
Nathan never celebrated his own birthday. Every year it was she who arranged it for him.
She'd rushed back specially, wanting to surprise him.
But it was she who got the shock instead.
She'd found out Nathan's schedule and slipped over quietly, only to walk into this:
In the private room, a strange woman was cradling Nathan's face and kissing him. It was the first time she ever saw Naomi James.
Annette was stunned, her temple throbbing in time with her pulse, every sound around her dissolving into a sharp ringing in her ears.
Her grip went slack, and the cake she'd been carrying hit the floor with a wet smack, cream splattering everywhere.
The noise startled the people on the couch.
Annette slammed the door and left.
When Nathan came back to himself, he snatched up his phone and bolted after her.
It was the dead of winter, and Nathan ran out in nothing but a shirt, chasing her car through the pouring rain, calling her again and again.
When she wouldn't answer, he texted like a madman.
"Annie, you've got it wrong. That's my sister-in-law. She came to celebrate my birthday, had too much to drink, mistook me for my brother."
"She just misses my brother so much. I swear it isn't what you saw."
"Annie, it's all my fault. Don't be angry, and please don't give up on me…"
When she didn't believe him, he chased her car down the road in that thin shirt until he collapsed unconscious, and the next day was rushed to the hospital and barely pulled through with his life.
When he came to, Nathan dropped everything, even the company, and stood beneath her building through wind and rain, explaining over and over, begging her forgiveness.
Henson Group's stock crashed to its daily limit. He grew thinner, more haggard by the day.
In the end, Annette softened after all.
Not long after, Naomi and the child both ran high fevers and lay unconscious at home, nearly losing their lives.
Once more Nathan knelt before her:
"Annie, I know this is asking a lot of you, but… could they move in and live with us?"
"I know how hard this is for you, but I really have no other choice."
"Before my brother died, he entrusted Naomi and the child to me. I have to carry that responsibility, I can't let anything happen to them. Just do it for my sake, all right?"
Annette gave in again.
Right up to today.
Never once had she imagined that all her swallowed pride, all her concessions, would lead to this.
After parking the car, Annette fixed the makeup her tears had ruined and walked into the restaurant.
The private room door was ajar.
Nathan was peeling grapes, picky as ever.
"Take the cherries away, Annie doesn't eat them. Bring out some pineapple instead."
Seeing the plate of peeled grapes in front of him, Brandon Dickerson reached for one, only to have his hand slapped away.
"Want some, peel your own. These are all for Annie. You so much as sneak one, I'll skin you."
Brandon backed off, sulky.
"I thought you only kept Annette around as a stand-in. Now you're going to all this trouble. Don't tell me you've actually fallen for her?"
Nathan lit a cigarette, the smoke hazy enough to blur his expression.
"The only one I love is Naomi."
"But back then, family pressure forced her hand. She carried my child and still had to marry my brother. Later, after he died, the fact remained that she and I were brother- and sister-in-law in name."
"Gossip cuts deep, and the Hensons have no shortage of enemies. I couldn't bear to expose Naomi to all of it, so I married Annette."
The only one? Brother- and sister-in-law?
So it wasn't only the marriage certificate that was fake. All these years of love had been fake too.
Naomi James, Nathan's sister-in-law, was the one love he forbade anyone to so much as mention.
She'd always thought he'd let that go. And it turned out… it was like this.
A vicious ringing filled her ears, and through the haze Annette saw the old memories rise.
The way Nathan's ears had flushed red, instinctively, when he was kissed.
The flicker of heartache in Nathan's frantic eyes the moment he learned Naomi had collapsed with fever.
So it had been this obvious all along.
Her heart felt as if a hand had closed tight around it, the pain choking her.
For some reason she thought of the first time she ever met Nathan.
Back in middle school, she'd been cornered and harassed by a dozen punks, when Nathan dropped out of the sky like some god, beating them until they scattered in retreat.
A big school jacket came down over Annette's head, and the boy's clear, bright voice followed, unhurried:
"Get home early. Stay safe."
Annette could still see the easy way he'd walked off. She'd stared at the school crest pinned to the jacket and murmured Nathan's name to herself, over and over.
From that day on, Nathan had lived inside her heart.
Seven years ago, when she learned she was to marry Nathan, she'd been happier than she could say.
At first Nathan was gentle but distant, treating even sharing a bed like a thing on a schedule.
Annette didn't let it discourage her. She worked to be a good wife, simmering soup and cooking meals for him with her own hands, keeping the household accounts.
Bit by bit Nathan opened up to her, showing off their love loudly to everyone, even walking away from a project worth billions and flying home through the night, all because Annette said once that she missed him.
The clearest change of all was in bed. The Nathan who came later held nothing back, fierce and lost in it, as though he wanted to knead her into his very bones.
She'd thought her love had moved Nathan, that he had fallen for her too.
It was only today that she learned how absurdly wrong she'd been.
Brandon was quiet for a long time.
"If Annette ever found out about this, she'd leave you for sure."
Richard Henson, who'd been playing with his Legos off to the side, suddenly looked up, his eyes shining.
"Then would Aunt Naomi get to be my mommy? I like Aunt Naomi!"
Annette had thought she couldn't hurt anymore, but the instant she heard those words the strength drained out of her and she sank to the floor.
She could not bring herself to believe it. Her own son took the other woman's side too.
Nathan frowned, displeased, a note of reproach in his voice.
"You're not to let your mother hear that kind of thing."
He crushed the glowing cigarette butt into the ashtray and looked at Brandon.
"As long as you all keep your mouths shut, Annie won't ever know."
The blood drained from Annette's face, the ringing in her ears sharp enough to tear through her nerves.
She stumbled, caught herself against the wall, nails digging deep into the plaster, holding on with the last shred of will to keep from blacking out.
She'd thought she would cry.
But her eyes were terrifyingly dry, raw and aching, and not a single tear would fall.
Nathan loved Naomi. Richard wanted Naomi for his mother too.
Then she would let them have it.
Annette did two things.
One: she emailed the French company that had once extended her an offer, stating she wished to take the position.
Two: she filed to erase her legal identity records in the country.
Annette sent her father a text to let him know, and soon got his reply, giving his blessing.
When it was all done, Annette drew a deep breath and pushed open the door to the private room as if nothing were wrong.
When Nathan saw her, a soft warmth touched his eyes and his lips.
"There you are. Come sit. I've peeled the grapes for you."
Those hands, which had signed contracts worth countless billions, were patiently peeling fruit for her.
Seven years. Every time it was like this, attentive enough to make her believe no one in this world could love her more.
Annette looked at the plate of grapes and was suddenly struck by how cruel it was.
He remembered she didn't eat cherries, remembered she loved pineapple, remembered every preference and aversion she had.
But the one he loved most had never been her.
Annette pulled at the corner of her mouth, walked over, and sat down.
Brandon, reading the room, got to his feet.
"Right… I just remembered there's something I need to handle at the office. I'll head out, leave you two to your anniversary."
Nathan waved a hand, his tone dismissive. "Get lost, then."
After Brandon left, the room went quiet for a few seconds.
Richard sat a little ways off, head down, absorbed in his Legos, not once glancing up at Annette, not once calling her "Mommy."
Annette stared at the crown of her son's head, her throat closing as if something were lodged there.
She used to tell herself it was normal for a boy to be a bit aloof, that not clinging to his mother meant nothing.
But that line from before, "I like Aunt Naomi, I want Aunt Naomi to be my mommy," was like a needle driven into the tip of her heart, and she couldn't pull it out.
"Richard, Mommy's here. Won't you say something to Mommy?"
Only then did Richard lift his eyelids, mumble a perfunctory "Mommy," and drop his head again.
The fingers resting on Annette's knee curled in slightly.
Just then the kitchen door opened.
Naomi came out.
"Annie, you're here. Come try the soup I made. Nathan said you haven't had much of an appetite lately, so I added yam and lotus seed specially, it's good for the stomach."
The very picture of the woman of the house.
Watching her, Annette suddenly felt like a guest who'd wandered into someone else's family.
A fine, creeping bitterness spread out from her heart, and at that moment her phone buzzed.
She looked down. A text:
【Ms. Butler, the identity records cancellation you applied for requires you to appear in person to sign and confirm. Please complete it as soon as possible.】
After reading it, Annette slipped the phone back into her pocket without a flicker and stood.
"I have to go. Something urgent's come up."
Nathan's brow furrowed, but before he could speak Naomi had already stepped forward and caught Annette by the wrist.
"Annie, leaving already? Today is your and Nathan's anniversary. He pushed back several important engagements for tonight, and I spent the whole afternoon cooking. The least you can do is sit and eat a few bites before you go."
Annette glanced down at the wrist Naomi was gripping, and her stomach turned.
"I really do have something to do." She gave a tug. It didn't come free.
Naomi's smile froze for an instant, but she didn't let go.
"Annie, don't be a spoilsport. Look, Richard's here too. It's so rare for the whole family to be together…"
Annette cut her off and wrenched her hand back hard.
"I said I have something to do."
It came out with too much force.
Naomi's foot landed in the soup spilled earlier on the floor. She staggered, pulling Annette down with her, and they crashed into the dining table.
Bowls and dishes smashed to the ground in a clatter, hot soup, shards of porcelain, and broken glass scattering everywhere.
Both of them were cut bloody by the broken glass.
It all happened in the space of a heartbeat.
"Mommy!"
Richard was the first to cry out.
Annette's heart gave a violent jolt, and almost by instinct she looked up at her son, her eyes stinging hot.
So the child did have her in his heart after all. In the moment of crisis, the first word out of his mouth was still Mommy.
Then, the next second, she watched Richard run on his short little legs straight to Naomi's side, crouch down, his face tight with worry.
"You're bleeding. Does it hurt? Let me blow on it."
Annette froze where she stood, a roaring in her ears.
So that one cry of "Mommy" had been her son, in his panic, blurting it out for Naomi.
He was calling Naomi Mommy.
Her own son, in a moment of life or death, had bolted toward another woman and called her Mommy.
第2章
Annette's lips parted, but the words wouldn't come. It was as though an invisible hand had closed around her throat.
Nathan crossed the room in long strides, bending first to check Naomi's injury, then straightening and turning to Annette, his eyes dark enough to frighten.
"What is wrong with you?"
The tone was pure rebuke.
"Naomi's health has never been good. You know that. She made you that soup out of kindness, asked you to stay for dinner, and you give her attitude? Causing a scene like this. What is the matter with you?"
Annette stared at him blankly. "I told you I had somewhere to be. She was the one who grabbed me—"
"She grabbed you, so you couldn't just speak to her properly?"
Nathan cut her off.
"Do you know who she is? She's my sister-in-law. The woman my brother entrusted to my care on his deathbed. With you flailing around so recklessly, if anything had happened to her, how would I face him?"
Nathan pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly forcing his anger down.
"Come here. Apologize to her."
Annette's pupils shrank.
She looked down at her own arm.
Blood had soaked through half her sleeve, dripping down one drop at a time.
The wound burned, raw and searing, but the deeper pain sat in her chest, as if someone were carving at it with a dull blade, stroke after stroke.
"Nathan," she said. "I'm in pain."
He lowered his gaze, saw the ugly gash across her arm, and his brow twitched.
He pressed his lips together. "I know you're in pain."
But then, at once, he added:
"But wrong is wrong. Apologize first. Once you do, I'll take you to get it treated."
That faint spark she'd just felt was doused, cold and clean, all at once.
In the haze of it, Annette remembered how things used to be.
She had been the bright, imperious little princess of New York's elite circles. At a reception once, after someone said two cutting words too many, she'd been too furious to bear it and smashed a bottle over the man's head.
The scene had dissolved into chaos. Nathan arrived late, unhurried.
The man went straight to him, complaining.
"Mr. Henson, you came at the right time. Look at what your wife has done. She apologizes today, or I call the police and charge her with assault."
Nathan didn't say a word. He slapped the man across the face, and afterward had his bodyguards deliver a hundred more.
He stayed perfectly unruffled.
"And so what if my wife is in the wrong?"
"My woman does nothing wrong. Whatever she does is right."
"Anyone with a problem can come say it to my face."
No one dared make a sound.
The pain dragged Annette back from the memory.
She looked at the man in front of her, frowning, ordering her to apologize, and no matter how she tried, she could not lay him over the Nathan who once slapped a hundred faces for her sake.
"Nathan," she said softly, her voice flat. "Do you remember something you once said?"
He frowned. "Said what?"
"You said your woman does nothing wrong. Whatever she does is right."
His expression stalled for a single instant.
Annette smiled faintly. "So it turned out that line came with a condition."
"The condition was that I never touch Naomi James."
The air froze again.
Nathan said nothing. Richard crouched at Naomi's feet, watching Annette warily, as if afraid she might hurt his Aunt Naomi again.
A strange flicker of amusement rose in Annette.
A sour ache spread from her chest through every limb, swelling, raw.
One was ice that would never thaw. The other, an ungrateful child she had raised who would never be tamed.
Annette looked straight into his eyes. "I won't apologize. I did nothing wrong."
Nathan's brow knotted tighter.
This woman was off today, nothing like the Annette he knew, the one who would coax and sulk and wait, red-eyed, for him to soothe her.
But he had no mind to dig into it now.
Naomi was badly hurt.
"Impossible," he said coldly, dropping the word like a verdict, then bent and lifted Naomi into his arms.
"I'm taking her to the hospital first. Wait here. I'll have the driver come for you. Go get that wound treated yourself."
With that, he didn't spare Annette another glance. He carried Naomi out of the private room in long, sweeping strides.
Naomi lay against his shoulder and looked back at Annette once.
It was entirely the pity of a winner.
Her own son, Richard, went after them too.
Annette let out a self-mocking laugh and looked down at the savage wound, and somehow it didn't seem to hurt so much anymore.
Next to the hole in her chest, what was a little broken skin worth?
Her phone buzzed with another message:
【Ms. Butler, the appointment window for cancellation of your identity records will close in 30 minutes. Please arrive as soon as possible.】
She didn't wait for the driver Nathan had promised. Annette called a car herself.
She really did have somewhere urgent to be.
This time, truly, truly, she was done with Nathan.
The driver flinched at the sight of her injuries.
"Miss, that's a bad wound. Shouldn't I take you to a hospital first?"
"No need," Annette said quietly. "The nearest police station."
第3章
The moment she signed, it was done. Settled.
A breath she hadn't known she was holding finally left her.
Annette was already picturing it, ready to book the first flight to France she could find. But when she opened her phone, there they were: dozens of missed calls.
Every one of them from Nathan.
Then the phone rang again in her hand.
She hesitated for a second, then answered.
Before she could get a word out, Nathan's voice came through the line, tight with held-back fury:
"Annette. So you'll finally pick up."
"I'm asking you. Where's Mila?"
She blinked. "What?"
"Don't play dumb with me." His voice went flat and cold. "Mila's gone. Someone grabbed her on the way home from school. The kidnappers just sent a video. Guess who I saw in it?"
Her fingers tightened around the phone, and a sharp unease rose in her chest.
"...Who?"
"Your father!"
He bit the words out.
"Annette, is this because you were upset earlier? Because I made you apologize, because I carried Naomi to the hospital and left you behind? So now you can't stand it, and you sent your father to snatch Mila to even the score?"
Her mind went white with a single roaring blank.
That was impossible.
Her father had no reason to kidnap Mila Henson.
Yes, he had his sharp edges in business, but he was not a man who would lay a hand on a child.
"I didn't tell anyone to take Mila Henson. I swear it before God."
There were a few seconds of silence on the line. Then Nathan said,
"Swearing won't help. I've already tracked your phone."
"If a single hair on Mila's head is harmed, Annette, I won't spare a single one of you Butlers."
The call cut off.
At the same moment, an email dropped into her inbox.
The French company. Welcoming her aboard.
If it had come a little sooner, Annette would have been overjoyed. Now, she only felt cold all the way through.
The black Maybach tore up to the curb. Nathan's face was a wall of storm. He clamped a hand around her wrist and dragged her toward the car.
"You're coming with me."
Nathan brought her back to the mansion.
"Why are you bringing me here? Where's Mila? Shouldn't you be out looking for her?"
He gave a cold laugh.
"Pry your father's mouth open, and we'll have Mila's whereabouts, won't we?"
"Annie, I can't bring myself to hurt you. But that doesn't mean I'll go easy on your father."
Her heart dropped hard in her chest.
Before she could ask what he meant, she saw him. Her father, trussed up and bound on the basement floor.
He'd already been through one round of it. He was covered in blood.
The tears came at once.
Nathan strolled to the sofa and sat down without a care.
"Chairman Butler, I'll ask you one more time."
"Where's Mila?"
Oliver Butler coughed twice, brought up a mouthful of bloody foam, and still held firm.
"I don't know... that little girl you're talking about... where she is..."
Nathan's eyes turned to ice.
He tilted his head, and a guard in black stepped forward at once.
Annette's eyes went wide with terror. She threw herself in front of her father. "Nathan! Stop it! You can't do this to my father!"
He looked down at her, not a trace of warmth in his gaze.
"Annie. Move."
"I won't!" She flung her arms out wide.
She was shaking from head to foot, but she didn't give an inch.
"You lay one more finger on my father today, you kill me first!"
Nathan was silent for two seconds.
Then he bent down, leaned close to her ear, and said low,
"You think I won't?"
He looked at Oliver, easy and unhurried.
"Chairman Butler, I don't want to take this all the way. But your daughter is standing right here, and whether she lives or dies depends on your next sentence."
"Tell me. Where did Annie have you stash Mila?"
Her father's whole body shook violently.
"Nathan, you animal! I never should have married Annie to you... You've got the nerve, you come at me, you leave my daughter out of it!"
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Come at you? Haven't I been coming at you this whole time?"
He waved a hand at the guard. "Look after the Chairman properly."
Blood. So much blood.
Annette had never seen that much blood, pouring out of her own father.
Her mouth fell open, but not a sound would come.
Her heart hurt as if ten thousand silver needles had been driven into it.
The tears ran down her face, and then she heard Nathan again:
"Forgot to mention, Chairman. I happened to let the press in on how you built your fortune."
He glanced at his watch. "By now Butler Group's stock has probably already hit its limit down. Another drop at tomorrow's open, and you'll be just about ready to file for bankruptcy."
The words hit Annette like a bolt out of the sky.
Even her father, in the middle of his torment, stared in shock.
The past came flooding back all at once.
That year, Nathan had come to the Butler home to discuss the marriage with her.
He'd sat in the living room a whole afternoon, played three games of chess with her father, talked the economy for two hours.
Annette had caught a few of their lines.
She'd heard Nathan say, "Mr. Butler, rest assured. Once Annie marries me, I'll treat her well. She does what she likes, and I'll never force her into anything she doesn't want. I'll keep her in the palm of my hand and never let her suffer the smallest wrong."
She'd heard him say something else:
"As for those old matters you mentioned. Don't worry. From now on, they stay between you and me alone. I'm your son-in-law, half a son to you. And what son would ever sell out his father?"
She'd heard her father's hearty laugh.
"Good man. With a word like that, I'll hand Annie over to you and rest easy."
That night her father had been in fine spirits, and broke his own rule for an extra couple of drinks. He'd taken her hand and said, with real weight behind it,
"Annie, Nathan's a good one. A man worth trusting with you. I've lived a long time, and I'm still a good judge of people."
Back then she'd ducked her head, cheeks flushed, smiling, her heart sweet as if it had been poured full of honey.
There the memory cut off short.
Annette was back in the cold of the present.
Watching her father's agony, her heart bled with his.
Dad, you were wrong about him.
第4章
"AHHH!!!" A scream tore through the room and dragged Annette back to the present.
She jerked her head up and saw her father's face, eyes wide and bloodshot with agony.
Her father, a man who could endure anything, was screaming like this.
She had never once heard him make such a sound.
For as long as she could remember, he had been the mountain in her mind that would never fall.
No matter the trouble, he always smiled and said, "It's fine, Dad's here."
Even after losing hundreds of millions in a deal, he would only sit alone in his study through the night, then walk out the next morning bright and steady as ever.
She had believed he would never fall.
But now he was strapped to that iron chair, drenched in blood, wailing like a slaughtered animal.
"Dad!!!"
Annette felt her heart breaking.
She broke completely and dropped to her knees in front of Nathan.
"Nathan! I'm begging you! Please!" She slammed her forehead to the floor, again and again. "Please, let my father go. I didn't kidnap Mila, I swear I didn't!"
She kept kowtowing, and before long her forehead split open.
Nathan sat on the sofa, watching her grovel into the dust, something dark and unreadable in his eyes. He didn't move.
Then his phone rang.
He frowned and answered. Naomi's voice came through. "Nathan, Mila's been found! She's at the hospital, a little shaken up. Come see her, quick!"
His face eased. "All right. I'm on my way."
And with that he simply left, his bodyguards with him.
Leaving Annette and her father exactly where they were.
The door closed.
Annette crawled to her father's side on her hands and knees.
"Dad, Dad, hold on! I'll get you out of here, I'll take you to the hospital..."
Her tears fell one by one onto the back of Oliver's blood-streaked hand.
Oliver forced his eyelids open. "Annie, stop fussing over me."
"Dad's not going to make it. Go. Go now."
"Dad got it wrong." His voice grew fainter, like a candle guttering in the wind. "I misjudged him... I'm sorry, Annie..."
Annette couldn't stop crying.
Her heart felt like a great hole had been torn through it, the wind howling in.
"Annie." Oliver gathered the last of his strength and closed his hand around hers. "Go now. Go to France. Go far away... and never come back."
His gaze was beginning to drift.
"Promise Dad... live well..."
Annette opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
But Oliver's hand went slack in her palm.
"Dad? Dad!!!"
Annette wept until the world went dark around her.
She had no idea how long she cried before she staggered to her feet.
She had to go, now. She couldn't let Nathan catch her again.
"Dad, wait for me."
Her tears had run dry, her voice gone hoarse, and she made her promise to her father's cooling body word by word.
"Once I'm settled, I'll come back for you. I won't leave you here alone."
Annette rushed to the airport that night and bought a seat on the last flight to France.
Just before takeoff, a text came in from Nathan.
"I'm sorry. I looked into it. A business rival was stirring up trouble. Dad didn't kidnap Mila."
"Wait for me. I'm sending someone to take Dad to the hospital right now. Annie, I'll make it up to you."
She read it twice.
The first time, it struck her as absurd.
The second time, it struck her as laughable.
Her tears were gone, her eyes dry and raw.
Just a few hours ago, he had sat on that sofa and watched the man he called "Dad" have his fingers broken one by one, and felt nothing.
Now he'd looked into it, and a weightless little "I'm sorry" was supposed to smooth all of this over?
He'd make it up to her. How, exactly?
Give her father's life back? Hand Butler Group back?
She didn't answer either message. She blocked him outright.
She wiped the last photo of the two of them from her album, and the plane lifted off.
The city behind her, that man, those absurd seven years of marriage, all of it left below in the clouds at thirty thousand feet.
Everything in New York was over.
Life had to go on. And Annette Butler owed it to herself, for once, to live for her own sake.