Chapter 4

Hidden in those words was a condition: be good, and you won’t be abandoned.

I began watching every word and gesture, searching for clues as I tried to understand a man I’d known for more than thirty years.

Outside the hospital room,

Adrian turned his suspicion on me for the first time.

“Did you teach him to say that? You could’ve just talked to me. Why drag an innocent child into this? He’s your son, too.”

“Why did you record that interview without discussing it with me?” I refused to answer such an idiotic question. Using my child as a weapon was beneath me.

He slowly turned his back. “I’ve expanded Hayes Group to four times its original size. Do I really need your permission to make a movie apologizing to someone I loved when I was young? Aren’t you overstepping a little, Ms. Bennett?”

That sounded familiar. When he’d first taken over Hayes Group, he used to hold me and beg for advice whenever a problem came up.

“You’re my wife. Who would dare object to you having a say in my life? You handle the small things. As for the big things… I’ll turn those into small things, and you can handle them, too!”

Now the person objecting was him.

Perhaps he’d forgotten that without my family’s help, Hayes Group would have been swallowed by another company long ago.

“I’m your wife,” I said, repeating his own words.

Adrian turned around and took hold of my arms. “Sweetheart, don’t make a scene. Don’t worry. I’m just making amends for a mistake I made when I was young.”

I understood the message beneath his words: Relax. Whatever I do out there, you’re still the one at home.

What a joke. Why should I keep a home waiting for him?

I pushed his hands away. “Let go. My tolerance for stupidity has run out.”

Noah and I stayed away from home for the next two weeks. Adrian assumed I was sulking.

Besides, he thought he knew me well enough. As he’d always said, I was rational, understanding, intelligent, and good under pressure. He expected me to process this on my own.

I decided to get him out of my system instead.

While he busied himself with preparations for filming,

I carefully assembled everything I needed for a divorce.

Twelve years. Two intertwined family businesses. There was a great deal to untangle.

Before I could tell my parents, my mother called.

“Claire, do you still love Adrian that much? Why haven’t you divorced him yet? No daughter of ours should have to put up with this.”

“Your father and I are behind you!”

I hadn’t cried once since hearing about his movie. I’d managed to reassure my new assistant, comfort my son when the rumors reached his kindergarten, and even march into the school to demand they protect him.

But at my mother’s words, I burst into tears.

We cried together on opposite ends of the phone.

“I’m going to divorce him.”

“Whatever happens, remember that your father and I are still here. We’ll always stand up for you.”

Through my tears, I nodded firmly.

Old memories slowly rose to the surface.