Chapter 3
Chloe's POV
That afternoon, I left the villa with what little I had packed and made my way to the apartment Josie had arranged for me in advance. It was a small place, just enough for one person, and I spent the first hour setting it up the way I liked — pulling back the curtains, letting the fresh air move through the rooms. Without quite meaning to, I felt myself begin to relax.
I was in the middle of putting together lunch when the habit caught me off guard: my hand paused mid-motion as I nearly turned to ask Vincent what he wanted to eat. The realization settled quietly over me. I wasn't in his house anymore. Once the engagement was formally dissolved, we would have no connection left, and I would never again need to arrange my life around his preferences.
When Josie came by to check on me, the shock on her face was immediate. "Chloe, have you really made up your mind about calling off the engagement?"
"Yes," I said.
By the time I finished telling her everything that had happened over the past six years, she was furious. "That bastard — how dare he treat you this way! And that woman, playing the grieving widow while carrying on behind your back. I'm going back to the magazine right now. I'll write a piece that buries both of them."
I grabbed her arm before she could get any further and shook my head. "The Sterling family has too much reach. You worked too hard to get where you are. I won't let you get dragged down because of me."
She pulled me into a tight embrace, and held on for a long moment. "You were one of the most talented designers of your generation," she said, her voice quieter now. "The most prestigious studio in London personally reached out to you. If it weren't for that man, you'd already be known all over the world."
Thinking back to who I had been six years ago, I felt something dim behind my eyes. I had loved Vincent deeply then, and when the choice came between my career and him, I hadn't hesitated. It was only now, standing in this small apartment with the afternoon light coming through the open curtains, that I understood just how wrong I had been.
Josie placed both hands on my shoulders and looked at me steadily. "Chloe, congratulations on finally seeing clearly. Without Vincent holding you back, things are only going to get better for you."
We smiled at each other, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself looking forward to what came next.
The following day, I returned to the villa to collect something I had left behind. Before I had even stepped through the door, I heard Selina's voice — soft and trembling at the edges, carefully tearful. "Vincent, I heard Chloe wants to call off the engagement. Is it because of me?" She let the tears come easily after that, her voice breaking as she said it was all her fault for getting hurt that day, for making him take her to the hospital, for causing the argument in the first place. "Maybe I should stop coming around altogether," she finished.
I stood in the hallway and listened to Vincent comfort her, his tone full of a tenderness I recognized but had never heard directed at me. "It has nothing to do with you," he said. "Chloe is making a mountain out of a molehill. She's always been like this about the smallest things."
"No," Selina pressed gently, "I took up too much of your time. She had every right to be upset. Please tell me when she comes back — I want to apologize to her in person."
I looked up then, just in time to watch Selina stumble during what appeared to be a dance exercise and fall into Vincent's arms. She pulled back with color in her cheeks, and when I saw the look on his face — something raw and consuming that I had never once seen him turn toward me — I understood everything I needed to.
"Vincent, why are you looking at me like that?"
"There's a family dinner tonight," he said. "I need someone to accompany me."
Selina hesitated with practiced delicacy. "Won't Chloe mind?"
"Don't worry about her."
A wave of nausea moved through me, quiet and complete. I didn't have the energy to walk in and confront them — it no longer seemed worth the effort. I retrieved my things and left without a word. No one noticed I had ever been there.
Vincent's POV
On the drive to the Sterling estate, Selina spoke in her usual soft way, as though each word cost her something. "Whatever the situation, Chloe is still your fiancée. As your closest friend, all I want is for you to be happy — even if that means she decides I can no longer be part of your life."
"Selina," I said, "you are genuinely the most guileless woman I have ever known."
The estate was fully lit when we arrived, the family gathered in nearly full attendance. My grandmother sat at the head of the table, silver-haired and composed, and after the initial greetings she looked around and asked where my fiancée was. Before I could answer, Selina stepped in smoothly: "Chloe and Vincent had an argument a few days ago and she left in a bit of a state. Please don't hold it against her."
My grandmother made no effort to soften her response. "A woman with no family name, no background — she doesn't even understand basic decorum. To miss an occasion like this is inexcusable."
One of my cousins laughed. "Vincent, with all the suitable women available to you, you chose to get engaged to someone with nothing to recommend her. It reflects poorly on the whole family." He let his gaze slide toward Selina with a pointed smirk. "And the company you brought tonight isn't exactly an improvement."
I looked at him with the particular kind of stillness that tends to end conversations, and the table went quiet.
I turned back to my food, and felt, beneath the irritation, something closer to impatience with myself. Six years of careful maneuvering had earned Chloe a grudging foothold in this family's regard, and she had chosen this moment to pull a disappearing act over something trivial. Jealousy dressed up as principle.
After we left the estate, Selina was pensive beside me. "Vincent, should I not have come tonight? Your family didn't seem comfortable with me there." She paused. "If Chloe had been the one here, I think she would have handled it far better than I did."
"It doesn't matter," I said, and rested my hand briefly on her hair. "While I'm here, no one will say a word against you. I'll make sure of it."
Her eyes filled slowly. Her expression carried that particular quality she had always had — something unfinished, as though she were always on the verge of saying something she had decided not to. "If only I had understood my own feelings sooner," she said quietly. "But I could never bring myself to hurt Chloe." Then she turned and walked away quickly, before I could respond.
I watched her go, and the feeling that settled in my chest afterward was one I couldn't immediately name. After all this time, Selina was still the same — that same unguarded sincerity she'd had since we were young.
By the time I returned to the villa, the night had fully arrived. The Michelin-trained chef had left the meal prepared and already gone home. I sat at the table and looked at the food in front of me — composed, expensive, technically flawless — and found I had almost no appetite for it. The top-grade caviar, worth more than most people earned in a month, somehow tasted like less than nothing compared to the sandwiches Chloe used to throw together without thinking. The contrast was sharp enough to be irritating, and I pushed the plate aside after a few bites and had the table cleared.
In the study, I sat at my desk and found the divorce agreement waiting for me. Chloe's signature was already on it. Beside it, she had left a note.
The position of Mrs. Sterling — give it to whoever you like.
A short, humorless laugh escaped me. I pulled out my phone and sent her a message.
Chloe, behaving like this will only make me lose patience with you.
I was still waiting for her reply when a knock came at the study door. It was Selina — she had come back, her cheeks faintly flushed. "Vincent, the child won't stop asking for you. I told him it might not be a good time, but he really wants to see you. You don't have to come if it's inconvenient."
The moment she mentioned the child, the edge went out of my voice entirely. "Let's go now."
"Oh — that's wonderful."
I pushed the agreement into the desk drawer and sent two final messages before I left.
Chloe, I'm not signing this.
I'll be waiting for the day you come home and admit you were wrong.
