He Chased Me to Paris, I Didn't Look Back

"Valerie, you've been working yourself to death. I booked you a flight to Switzerland—take Leo, go relax for a while." My husband Cedric set an Hermès scarf down on the table. "Early gift for our tenth anniversary."

I was thrilled, twirling in front of the mirror with the scarf, admiring how it looked.

That's when my son came around the corner, iPad in hand. "Mommy, a message just popped up. Daddy said he wants to give Seraphina a real family."

My mind just... blanked out.

I opened the message myself, and there it was—a whole year of secrets I never even knew existed.

So he wants to make things right with his old flame? Fine.

Then I get to take back everything I ever gave him.

Valerie's POV

"Valerie, you've been working too hard lately. I booked you a flight to Switzerland—take Leo and go for a long vacation."

My husband, Cedric, handed me an envelope with a gold-embossed logo.

"Really?" I took the envelope, looking at him in surprise. "This is so sudden."

"The firm just landed the Hudson Tower project. If you stay, you'll be pulling all-nighters right along with everyone else."

"Go rest for a month. I've got things covered here."

He walked over and set a Hermès scarf on the table.

"A gift for you. Consider it an early celebration for our tenth anniversary."

Looking at the exquisite scarf, warmth welled up inside me.

"Cedric, what made you think of all this?" I picked up the scarf, smiling at him.

"All those nights you burned yourself out for the firm over these ten years—I've kept every one of them in mind." He took my hand, his voice gentle. "I owe you this."

My eyes grew misty.

For ten years, I'd willingly played the role of his "ghost designer." All those blueprints I drew through the night, the sleepless eyes I earned winning him the industry's top honors—I never once regretted it, because I loved him, and I loved the business we'd built together from nothing.

From a three-person studio to one of Manhattan's three leading architecture firms—every step of it was soaked in my sweat, and yet I'd relished every moment.

"Alright, I'll do as you say." I smiled and tucked the tickets into the drawer.

Cedric visibly relaxed. He glanced at his watch, and his tone turned hurried.

"I have a meeting with some investors tonight—I might not make it home. Get some rest."

After the front door closed, the apartment fell silent, empty except for me.

I picked up the scarf from the table and walked to the mirror, tying it around my neck, admiring the way it caught the light.

"Cedric still has good taste," I told my reflection, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

Just then, my son Leo came around the corner from the hallway, clutching his drawing tablet.

"Mommy, is Daddy going to marry Aunt Seraphina?"

My mind went blank. My hand froze.

I crouched down, looking straight into Leo's eyes.

"Leo, why would you say that?"

Leo pulled out the iPad from behind his back—the old one Cedric had passed down to him for watching cartoons at home.

"I was watching cartoons and a message popped up." He turned the screen toward me.

"Daddy was chatting with an aunt named Seraphina. I saw it by accident... He said he was going to throw a really big birthday party for Chloe, and that 'that's the family he truly wants.'"

I took the iPad.

The screen was still frozen on that notification—an Instagram DM alert from an account called "C&S_Forever."

My fingers trembling, I tapped it open, only to discover it was nothing as innocent as a birthday party message.

I scrolled through the screen.

It documented an entire year of Cedric and Seraphina's "sweet little moments" together.

There were photos of them kissing on a street in Paris; there was Cedric splurging $500,000 on a custom pink Steinway piano for Seraphina's daughter, Chloe.

And then there was the most recent photo—Cedric in a white bespoke suit, captioned: 【Next week, I'll finally make up for the regret from ten years ago.】

I stared at those words—"make up for the regret from ten years ago"—and felt the blood in my veins turn to ice.

That was when my eyes drifted to the packaging box beside me for the scarf—the pattern printed on it was identical to the color scheme of that limited-edition platinum bag Seraphina had been carrying.

It hit me all at once.

This scarf was never something Cedric had carefully picked out for me.

He'd probably bought it as a throw-in when purchasing that bag for Seraphina, then handed it off to me as an afterthought.

I ripped the scarf from around my neck, crushed it into a ball, and hurled it into the trash can.

So that was it.

Sending me to Switzerland for a vacation had nothing to do with my health—it was just a way to get rid of me, his inconvenient wife.

I looked at the scarf sitting in the trash, so pitifully careless now, and thought of that $500,000 custom piano, and found the whole thing absurd beyond belief.

I turned and went out to the terrace, letting the cold wind hit me as I looked out over the glittering lights of Manhattan, my eyes slowly turning to ice.

If he wanted to make up for his regrets with Seraphina, then I had every right to take back the glory I'd given him.

I pulled out my phone and dialed the number of Pierce, New York's top divorce attorney.

"Pierce, draft me a divorce agreement."

"And I want a full accounting of every asset under Cedric's name."