His Exception Was Never Me

Jaxson Rourke, head of the Rourke family, had one unbreakable rule: at 9:00 PM every night, he stopped taking calls.

Even in the early days of our relationship, his 9 PM blackout was absolute.

I only broke that rule once. Followed by a rival crew late one night, I called him in a panic.

His voice was ice-cold. "Handle it yourself, Soraya. You know my hours."

I spent the entire night alone at the police station.

I didn't walk through our front door until the next morning, and he didn't ask me a single question about it.

Now, staring at his laptop, the truth finally hit me.

I had accidentally opened his synced call logs.

From 9:00 PM to 9:00 AM. Twelve straight hours on an active phone call. Every single night for the last five years.

The number belonged to Maren Shay—the fragile girl sheltered by his mother.

The sheer exhaustion of trying to be the perfect mafia bride finally crushed me.

I sat there until the numbness in my legs matched the hollow ache in my chest.

Then, with a few clicks, I canceled our courthouse wedding appointment.

...

The screen showed the cancellation was successful just as Jaxson stepped out of the bathroom. Seeing me sitting there, he checked his watch and frowned.

"Anything you need to say? It's almost nine. I'm going to sleep."

I stared at him for a second, then shook my head. "No."

He nodded. "Good. Night."

He didn't notice any shift in my mood. He just turned his back and walked into the bedroom.

I sat there in a daze for a moment.

Just as I was about to get up, the darkened laptop screen lit up with an incoming call from Maren.

And Jaxson—the man who supposedly didn't take calls, didn't talk, and didn't reply to anyone after 9 PM—answered it in one second.

He was terrified of making her wait.

A bitter laugh escaped me. How thoughtful of him. It was just a shame his one exception wasn't his wife.

When I went into the bedroom, Jaxson had his eyes closed and looked fast asleep.

But now, I noticed things I hadn't before.

Like the phone placed face-down on the nightstand.

Like the small, black wireless earbud tucked into his right ear.

I turned off the light.

In the dark, I pulled out my phone and replied to the overseas transfer my boss had offered me last week. I hadn't accepted it then because I didn't want to do long-distance with Jaxson after we got married.

But now, it was all over.

My boss replied almost instantly.

[Are you sure? It's a five-year posting at the Paris office. If you're in, get your visa sorted. You leave in three days.]

I typed back a simple Yes.

Jaxson's breathing was steady beside me.

I imagined Maren felt just as secure listening to it on the other end.

We were lying in the same bed, but there was a massive divide between us.

I stared blankly into the dark for a moment, then closed my eyes and fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning, Jaxson was already in the closet getting dressed. I reached over and brushed my hand against his phone on the nightstand.

It was burning hot.

I gathered the paperwork I needed for my visa and walked toward the door.

As I passed him, Jaxson stopped me, looking confused.

"You're not tying my tie?"

I gave a faint smile. "Not today. You should learn to do it yourself."

I paused for a second and continued, "Or have your assistant do it."

Jaxson dropped his hands and walked over, frowning. "Maren?"

Just saying her name instantly softened the hard, ruthless lines of his face. A hint of a smile touched his eyes.

"She does know how. She's a very careful girl. But what does she have to do with you tying my tie?"

I stayed silent for a moment. I didn't even know where to start, so I didn't bother explaining.

"Nothing. I just don't want to do it anymore."

Jaxson's lips thinned in annoyance.

"Suit yourself. By the way, you don't need to bring me lunch today. Maren just texted. She said she's bringing me something."

My hand paused on the doorknob. "Alright."

Because of his severe stomach issues, no matter how busy I was with Syndicate business, I had always cooked his meals myself. Good. Now, I could finally take a break.

I was done managing his moods. I walked out and shut the door behind me.

I went to the consulate and secured my five-year work visa, then picked up my transfer letter from the office.

Putting the documents in my bag, I looked at the trees blooming outside the building. For the first time in years, I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of relief.

Remembering something, I pulled out my phone, opened the courthouse booking app, and completely deleted Jaxson's ID from my profile.

From now on, I wouldn't be needing it.