Seven Years His Hidden Heartbreak
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Holden Gillespie. I built his literary empire with my words, all while our ma
t, Kassidy. When I finally quit, he tried to kick m
s birthday. Holden showed up wi
mango c
has a life-threatening allergy to mangoes. He almost
took our son, disappeared, and filed
standing outside my new home
divorce," he says, his v
pte
as quitting. The words felt foreign on my tongue, heavy with seven years of unspoken truth. He leaned b
yes, usually sharp and calculating, were momentarily clouded by surprise.
portunities." The lie tasted bitter, but it was a script I had
could possibly be better than being my right hand? We're a team." He gestu
de the tremor I felt deep inside. "But it's time for me to move on. I've accepte
hing house, is it? The one who keeps trying to poach you? I thought we settled tha
forcing a polite smile. "
walk away. I have a book deadline next month. And the follow-up. Who's going to manage everything?" H
ss his polished mahogany desk. "Everything is outlined. You'll be fine." My fingers tw
is..." He paused, his eyes scanning something on the page. "It's just, you know, people always assu
rability, of the secret life he condemned me to. The truth was, I was about to become a single mother, in every sense
from his desk.
a whirlwind of bright colors and artificial perfume. Her eyes, wide and innocent, landed
going to be fabulous!" She practically purred, gliding towards his desk. S
he rarely, if ever, showed me anymore. "Tha
bestselling word, the silent partner in a life he refused to acknowledge. Our marriage was a carefully guarded secret, tucked away in the shadows of his pub
d be a family. But that day never came. Instead, the secrecy grew, suffocating me, erasing me. And
gh tinkling through the air. He didn't pull away. He never did. A pang, sharp and fam
ingers, long and perfectly manicured, brushed against the collar of h
oid where my hope used to reside. It wasn't just the betrayal; it was t
oice surprisingly steady. "Can I ha
quite busy right now. Is this urgent? Perhaps you can send an email." His tone was crisp, business-
My place was no longer by his side, but in the footnotes of his life, if even that. He was making it ab
logies. I'll just gather my things." I used his formal title, mirroring his
ssidy, who was now leaning in, whispering some
my chest. He wouldn't care. He was already mov
o. A text message. 'Is Daddy com
my throat. I glanced back, my eyes drawn to Holden and Kassidy. She was now openly
perate message to Holden: 'Leo's asking abo
cket, read the message, and then, with a dismissive flick of
d my shoulders, and took a deep, shaky breath. One