Chapter 3

The next few days were a strange, tense ballet of avoidance. I stayed at a generic hotel near the Hoover Building, a place with bland art and stiff sheets, but it felt like a sanctuary. It was clean, anonymous, and, most importantly, it was a space untouched by Sarah' s presence. I went to work, filled out reports, and acted as if my world hadn' t just been reborn from its own ashes.

I expected a flood of angry calls, texts, emails. Instead, there was silence. Sarah was clearly stewing, plotting her next move. She wasn't the type to accept defeat. She was the type to re-strategize, to find a new angle of attack.

The opportunity for that attack came a week later, in the form of an official work trip. It was a multi-agency tech conference in San Diego, focusing on cybersecurity and counter-terrorism. My team was scheduled to attend, and as a consultant, Sarah was mandated to be there. In the first timeline, the trip had been the stage for my ultimate humiliation. This time, it would be the stage for her downfall.

The pre-trip briefing was held in a secure conference room at the Bureau. My team was there-Dave, a couple of junior agents, and our section chief. I saw Sarah walk in, her expression cool and professional. She took a seat across the table from me, pointedly avoiding my gaze. The titanium ring was still on her finger.

Then, the door opened again, and Alex Thorne walked in.

He was exactly as I remembered him: tall, impeccably dressed in a suit that probably cost more than my car, with a smile that was both charming and predatory. He radiated an aura of effortless power and confidence.

"Sorry I' m late," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "Got held up in a meeting."

My colleagues stared, confused. Civilians, especially high-profile ones like Thorne, were never allowed into secure FBI briefings.

Section Chief Williams, a man who lived by the book, frowned. "Mr. Thorne. I wasn't aware you would be joining us."

Before Sarah could speak, Alex answered for her, his smile never wavering. "Sarah invited me. She felt my insights on the private sector' s role in next-gen security could be invaluable to your team. Think of me as a temporary asset."

He walked over and stood behind Sarah, placing his hands possessively on her shoulders. It was a blatant power play, a message for me and for everyone else in the room. She' s with me.

Dave shot me a look, his eyebrows raised. The junior agents shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They knew this was a breach of protocol, a serious one. They looked to me, the senior field agent, to do something.

In the first timeline, this is where I would have lost my temper. I would have stood up, cited a dozen regulations, and demanded that Alex leave immediately. It would have caused a huge fight with Sarah, painting me as the jealous, obstructive husband.

This time, I did nothing.

I leaned back in my chair, picked up a pen, and doodled on my notepad. I didn't look at Alex. I didn't look at Sarah. I simply waited.

Sarah, bolstered by my silence, seized the moment. "Chief Williams, Alex' s input is vital. He' s at the forefront of the very technologies we' ll be discussing. To exclude him would be professionally negligent."

Williams looked torn. On one hand, the rules were clear. On the other, Sarah was a highly respected consultant, and Alex Thorne was an influential man. A fight with them could cause political headaches.

Alex leaned down and whispered something in Sarah' s ear. I couldn' t hear the words, but I saw the result. A flicker of indignation crossed her face as she looked at my colleagues.

"I' m getting the sense that some people here have a problem with this," she said, her voice sharp. She was directing her comment at the junior agents, who were now trying to look intensely interested in the ceiling. "Let me be clear. Alex is my guest. He is here to assist this team. I expect everyone to extend him the professional courtesy he deserves."

Her tone was imperious, a queen addressing her court. She was using her authority, an authority partially derived from her connection to me, to force her lover into a secure federal operation. The irony was bitter.

Alex straightened up, a look of faint, patronizing victory on his face. He pulled up a chair and sat down right next to Sarah, as if he belonged there.

I kept my head down, my pen moving across the paper. Let her do it. Let them both do it. Let them break the rules. Let them alienate the team. Let them dig their own graves, right here, in front of everyone.

I wasn't here to stop her anymore.

I was just here to watch.