The CEO’s Regret: She Left Without a Word

The second I walked back into our bedroom, I pulled out my phone and called my lawyer.

"I need divorce papers drawn up. Tonight."

The line went quiet. "Divorce papers? Does Mr. Ryland know about this?"

"He does." The lie scraped my throat on the way out, but I said it anyway. "Just send them over."

Half an hour later, I was standing at the console table by the door, the printer still warm beside me, signing my name on the last page. Then I buried the whole stack under a pile of homeowner's insurance renewals and property paperwork.

I had barely gotten my face under control when Knox walked in. The moment he saw me, surprise flashed across his sharp features.

"Piper? I thought you weren't back from your work trip until Friday."

I made myself smile. "I finished early. I wanted to surprise you."

He crossed the room in three strides and took my face in both hands. His palms had always been my favorite kind of warmth. Now my skin crawled beneath them.

"You're home," he said, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. "God, I missed you."

His tenderness made me wonder if I had imagined the conversation I'd overheard.

Before I could fall apart, I picked up the stack and held it out to him. "Since you're here, could you sign these? It's just insurance renewals and property paperwork. I'd like them off my plate."

"Sure." There was no suspicion in his voice. He took the pile, drew a pen from his jacket, and signed wherever a little flag stuck out. Page after page, his signature slid across the paper, bold and smooth and completely unguarded.

I watched the pen reach the divorce papers tucked near the bottom. He never even glanced at the header. He trusted me that much. Or maybe it simply never crossed his mind that I could do this to him.

When he finished, he handed everything back with a small smile. "All done. Now, may I say hello to my wife properly?"

He pulled me against his chest before I could answer, and his mouth came down toward mine. Panic shot through me.

At the last second I turned my head, and the kiss landed at the corner of my lips.

Knox drew back, a frown darkening his eyes. "What's wrong?"

I dropped my chin and let my hair fall across my face. "Nothing. I'm just wiped out from the trip. Traveling always drains me."

The frown vanished, replaced by worry. "Then you should have said something. Come sit down."

He steered me to the sofa and started working his thumbs in slow circles at the base of my neck, then up along my temples.

"You push yourself too hard, sweetheart," he murmured. "How many times have I told you? If that job is making you miserable, quit. I'll take care of you."

Once, words like that would have turned me to mush. I would have spun around and kissed him. Now each one sat on my chest like a stone.

I just nodded. "Maybe you're right. I'll think about it."

He kissed the top of my head. "Good girl. I'm going to hop in the shower. Stay right there, I'll be back in a minute."

As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut and the water came on, I let the mask fall. I sank into the cushions, my eyes burning but stubbornly dry.

Then something buzzed, loud in the quiet room. His phone, lying on the nightstand, had lit up with a call.

I went over, thinking I'd bring it to him in case it was important. Then I saw the name on the screen: Eden.

My stomach dropped.

The phone buzzed twice more and went still. I stood there, frozen, the weight of it heavy in my hand.

I was about to set it down when a text preview slid across the lock screen.

[Can't wait for you to see this.]

My fingers moved before my mind gave them permission. I typed in my own birthday, and the phone opened.

I found Eden's thread. The last message was a single photo.

A sonogram.

I tapped it open. There it was in grainy black and white: a tiny, curled-up shape, the curve of a head already visible.

That was my sister's baby. And my husband was the father.

I pressed my fist to my mouth to keep any sound from getting out.

For months, I had been trying to get pregnant with Knox, and nothing had happened. The board and the older Rylands had grown louder and louder about the need for an heir. And Knox had always planted himself between me and all of them.

"We have time," he would say, kissing my forehead. "I don't need a baby. I just need you. We'll build our own little world, just the two of us."

But Eden had given him what I couldn't. My own sister. The one our parents adored while I faded into the wallpaper. She had always ended up with everything I wanted, and now she had this, too.

The pain was dull and deep, like a blade being slowly turned in my chest.

I closed the photo and locked the phone. Then I set myself against the pillows and scrolled through my own screen as if nothing in the world had happened.

Knox came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel slung low on his hips, water still beading on his chest.

He glanced at his phone, and I caught it: the brief tightening in his jaw, the way his eyes flicked to me and away.

I looked up, all innocence. "Everything okay?"

He set the phone face-down on the nightstand. "Just work. A competitor down south is trying to steal one of our biggest warehousing clients. I'll deal with it tomorrow."

My heart sank. He was lying again.

He slid into bed and curled his body around mine. I forced myself to loosen up, to keep playing the clueless wife for a few more days.

The next morning, Knox brought up my family while he stood at the mirror, working his tie into a knot. "The dinner's the day after tomorrow, at your parents' house. You don't have to go, Piper. I know how much you dread these things."

I looked at him. "Why would you say that?"

His eyes met mine in the glass. "Because your parents hardly look at you when Eden's in the room. I hate watching you sit through it."

Every word was true, and once I would have been grateful for how fiercely he protected me.

Now I saw the real reason behind it. He didn't want me there because Eden would be, her belly just starting to curve beneath some designer dress.

I swallowed my bitterness. "I'm going. It's a family occasion, and everyone will be there. It would look strange if I didn't show."

Something crossed his face, guilt maybe, or unease, but he smoothed it over fast. "All right. If that's what you want."

I would go to that dinner. I would look at the parents who had always showered Eden with affection while I stood off in the corner. I would look at the sister who had taken everything from me.

And then I would walk away for good.