Leaving The Billionaire Who Loved His Ex

ital bed, and I was frantical

med his battery had died while h

asn't working. He was in a London café, looking at Olivia-the ex-girlfri

here on the table between the

fect, grieving wife when he returned. But t

os of her; it was a journal. The in

her, I can pretend I didn't settle for the safe, borin

recreate a ghost of the woman he actually loved. He planned t

anded him a stack of documents to sign,

r the table, I walked into a clinic to r

rmind. He has no idea he

pte

a

in New York, and my husband was busy r

but at the time, I simply th

creamy white. In fact, everything in my life was soft and white and perfect. I was

topped traffic. He was thirty-eight, a CEO with eyes like

n a subway grate. He didn't just help me. He swooped in, lifted me up, and

ind. He claimed I was his breath of fresh air

believ

I had sent him three mess

n't re

d myself that his work ethic was how he provided this life

y phone

than. It wa

ive heart attack. Mo

. I grabbed my purse, ignoring the h

ok so hard I dropped my p

And rang.

voic

Ethan. Leav

that smeared past the window. "It's my dad. He had a

of antiseptic hit me like a physical blow.

ors were working on him. Ever

d Ethan

t to vo

s assistant

ed his hand on my shoulder. I needed his deep voice telling me i

vibrate

perate for his name t

riend, who was also in

no text. J

ll ten seconds to pro

ot taken through t

n't in a meeting. He wa

ing across

be before I cut it. She was laughing, he

dn't spoken to in five years. The woman

s lookin

ite mask he wore at galas. It wasn't the

It was desperat

timestamp. Taken

at my sen

ease. Dad

m ten minutes ago. A text from

er broken. Will call

one was sitting right there on the

sn't

le. He just didn't