Chapter 8

Then it had dragged her under again.

She had spent the whole night dreaming inside that sentence.

“Thank you, Victor, but I can get back on my own.” Harlow braced one hand against the nightstand and got out of bed. She was better today. Her head still felt heavy, but the dizziness had eased.

Victor looked troubled. “I can’t let you do that. Mr. Emerson specifically arranged for me to wait here. If I don’t get you home safely, he’ll definitely blame me.”

Harlow suspected Victor had misunderstood whatever relationship he thought she and Cillian had. She was not that important to Cillian. Certainly not important enough for him to reprimand his own assistant over her.

“I’m really fine. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Victor hesitated, clearly debating what to do.

At that exact moment, Cillian called.

It was about work.

A file Victor had put away earlier was needed urgently. Cillian asked which cabinet it was in. After giving the location, Victor added, almost automatically, “Mr. Emerson, Ms. Gideon is awake. She says she doesn’t need me to drive her, so I…”

“Let her.”

Cillian hung up.

Harlow had heard his impatient answer from where she stood.

That tone made it perfectly clear. He did not want to waste another second on her.

Fair enough.

In his mind, she had died six years ago.

A sour ache spread through her chest, endless and humiliating. Harlow hated herself for being so useless. Cillian had already climbed out of the past. Why was she still trapped there, undone by one sentence from him?

No.

She could not keep doing this.

Harlow put on her coat, went into the bathroom, and washed her face. When she came out, she said to Victor, “Can I get your number?”

“My contact?”

“Yes.”

“Of course.”

Victor took down her number, and they added each other.

“Thank you for today,” Harlow said. “I’ll send you the hospital bill later. Please pass it on to Mr. Emerson for me.”

“Why not send it to Mr. Emerson directly?”

“I don’t have his contact information.”

Victor stared blankly for a second.

His boss had stayed at the hospital all night. When he left that morning, the dark circles under his eyes had nearly clocked in as a separate employee.

Victor had assumed this woman was Mr. Emerson’s girlfriend.

Apparently, they did not even have each other’s contact information.

When Harlow went downstairs, she stopped at the hospital’s self-service kiosk, printed the itemized bill, took a photo, and sent it to Victor along with the payment.

Victor: [Ms. Gideon, you sent two hundred extra.]

Harlow: [That’s for the ride to the hospital last night.]

Victor had no idea his boss had personally driven her to the hospital. After receiving the transfer, he immediately sent the full amount to Cillian and noted that it was from Ms. Gideon for the hospitalization and transportation.

Cillian spent the whole afternoon in meetings. When he finally checked his phone and saw the transfer and note, his expression turned lethal.

Wonderful.

Transportation.

Harlow Gideon had charged him into her mental ledger as a driver.

By the time Harlow got home, Rowan had already taken Calista to kindergarten.

“Harlow, you’re back. I was just about to go see you at the hospital.” Rowan stood by the door with a thermos of soup in her hand. If Harlow had come back three minutes later, they would have missed each other completely.

“How did you know I was hospitalized?”

“You didn’t come home last night, so I called you. Cillian Emerson answered. He said you had a mild concussion, passed out, and were in the hospital.”

“Cillian answered?”

“Yep. I was wondering why Cillian Emerson was next to you in the middle of the night.” Rowan waggled her eyebrows. “Don’t tell me he stayed with you all night.”

That…

Absolutely not.

He had declared her dead. Why would he stay with her all night?

“Rowan, forget Cillian for a second. My biggest problem right now is Felix Lowell.”

Harlow told Rowan everything, including Felix bribing Delilah Vale and having her drugged.

Rowan’s face darkened by the second. “What does Felix Lowell have in his skull, landfill runoff? Who even thinks up something that disgusting?”

“I thought once I had proof of his abuse, I’d have the advantage in the divorce case,” Harlow said. “But now that I think about it, I don’t have hard evidence. If Felix buys off the Lowell staff and has them accuse me of making it up, I’ll be in a very passive position. I need leverage he can’t wriggle out of before he comes up with something even dirtier.”

“You said Felix almost never comes home. Could there be another woman?” Rowan’s worldview on men was not sunny. “Maybe start with proof he’s cheating?”

“There’s no other woman.”

“You sound very sure he’s not out there keeping a mistress.”

“I am.”

Rowan took two seconds to process that. Then her eyes went huge, as if she had just been handed the juiciest piece of gossip in existence. She covered her mouth and lowered her voice. “Wait. Is Felix… not very functional in that department?”

Harlow nodded.

Felix was not very functional in that department. He also cared desperately about saving face, which meant Harlow was certain he would never humiliate himself outside the marriage and give another woman a chance to laugh at him.

“Married six years to a husband who doesn’t work properly.” Rowan gave her a look of theatrical grief. “Harlow, babe, that is tragic.”

Was it?

Harlow had never felt particularly tragic about that part.

Before marrying Felix, she had already had the best.

That line she had thrown at Cillian when they broke up, “I’m tired of sleeping with you,” was absolutely the most dishonest sentence she had ever said in her life.

That face. That body. That strength. That almost unfair devotion to pleasing her.

How could anyone get tired of that?

“Hold on.” Rowan suddenly stopped short. “If Felix can’t do it, then Calista is… Cillian Emerson’s child?”

At this point, Harlow had no intention of hiding it from Rowan anymore. She took Rowan’s hand solemnly.

“Rowan, you have to keep this secret for me.”

“I knew it!” Rowan nearly vibrated out of her skin. “I knew Felix Lowell’s long, busted face could not have produced a daughter as pretty as Calista. Does Felix know?”

“He knows Calista isn’t his biological child. He doesn’t know who her father is.”

Felix had a physical problem. Six years ago, on the night Harlow married him, he had tried several times to consummate the marriage. Every attempt failed.

In a fit of humiliation and rage, he smashed every appliance in the newlywed suite. Harlow had watched him lose control, revolted and frightened, and vomited on the spot.

The next day, she kept vomiting.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter