Chapter 3

I placed the divorce papers on the kitchen island as Nicole was rushing out the door.

She glanced at them, a smirk on her face. "Another dramatic gesture, Ryan?" She signed her name on the last page without even reading a single word. "There. Happy now?"

She tossed the pen down. "Now, I need you to do something for me. Wesley is feeling a bit under the weather, so he can't drink tonight. You'll be the designated driver for the fundraiser."

It wasn't a request. It was an order.

At the fundraiser, held in a lavish hotel ballroom, I was a ghost. Nicole introduced me to no one. I stood by the wall, watching her work the room.

A major donor, a man named Mr. Harrington, cornered me by the bar. "You're Ryan Lester, right? The architect from that scandal a few years back. Shame, real shame."

I looked over at Nicole, who was standing just a few feet away. She heard him. She met my eyes for a second, then turned back to her conversation, allowing the man's assumption to hang in the air. She did nothing to defend me.

Later, I saw her laughing with a group of supporters. Wesley was right beside her, his arm draped possessively around her shoulders.

Someone in the group asked, "Councilwoman, are you married?"

Nicole and I answered at the exact same time.

"No," she said, with a charming, political smile.

"No," I said, from across the room.

My phone buzzed a second later. A text from her.

"It's just for show, don't be sensitive."

I went to the restroom to splash some water on my face. Wesley followed me in. He stood at the sink next to me, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

"Tough night?" he taunted, his voice slick with contempt. "It must be hard being a disgraced has-been. Your own wife is ashamed to even admit she knows you."

I just looked at his reflection in the mirror, saying nothing.

He wasn't worth my anger.