Chapter 3

Eveline Sawyer POV:

The next morning, I moved with a sense of purpose I hadn't felt in years. I packed a single suitcase with my essentials, leaving behind everything Jace had ever given me. Then I drove to our shared office space and walked directly into my business partner's office. He was also Jace' s boss.

"I' m resigning," I said, placing the letter on his desk.

Mark stared at me, his mouth agape. "Eveline, what is this? We just landed the Prentiss account. Your restaurant concept was the closer." He pushed the letter back toward me. "Take a vacation. A month. Whatever you need. But you can' t leave."

Just then, the door swung open and Jace walked in, looking rumpled and tired. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday. A faint, cloying scent of Kathie' s floral perfume clung to him. My eyes immediately snagged on a faint red mark just below his jaw, partially hidden by his collar. A lipstick smudge.

A memory surfaced, sharp and painful. A few years ago, after a particularly passionate night, he' d noticed a hickey on his neck and had been furious. "Eve, I have a client meeting," he' d snapped. "This is unprofessional. You have to be more careful."

I had been so careful ever since, always mindful of his pristine image, his professional reputation. I' d held myself back, contained my passion, all for him.

Now, looking at that careless smudge of pink lipstick, I realized it was never about professionalism. It was about me.

Mark, oblivious, threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jace, talk to your girlfriend. She' s trying to quit right after we landed the biggest deal of our careers."

Jace' s eyes widened, first in confusion, then in annoyance as he looked at me. He stepped forward, automatically reaching for me.

"What' s this about?" he asked, his voice low. "Are you still upset about last night?" Mark left, closing the door behind him to give us privacy.

Jace cornered me against the desk. "Look, I already said I was sorry. Kathie was in a real jam. You know how much this waterfront project means to her." He tried to frame my face with his hands, but I turned away.

He sighed, a long-suffering sound. "Don' t be like this, Eve. It' s just a piece of paper. We' ll sign it next week. It' s petty to throw away your career over one rescheduled meeting."

My voice was quiet, devoid of the emotion he expected. "I' m just tired, Jace. I need a break."

His jaw tightened. "A break? You can take a vacation. You can' t resign. What will people say? It' ll make Kathie look like she drove you out. Her reputation can' t take a hit like that right now."

The irony was so thick I could have choked on it. My vacation days? I' d used them all up months ago, covering for him on business trips he' d bailed on to help Kathie with her "emergencies."

And there it was again. His first concern wasn't for me, or our company, or our future. It was for her. How it would look.

I said nothing, my gaze fixed on that smudge on his neck.

He followed my eyes, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. He quickly pulled his collar up. "It's a rash," he said, the lie clumsy and obvious. "My shirt collar was chafing."

The lie didn't even hurt anymore. It was just... pathetic.

I nodded slowly, as if accepting his ridiculous explanation. "Okay."

The relief that washed over his face was disgusting. He thought he' d gotten away with it. He thought I was still the same gullible woman who believed all his excuses.

He leaned in, his voice softening into a persuasive murmur. "Listen. I' ll make this right. I' ll take you to that new French place tonight, the one you' ve been wanting to try. We' ll celebrate properly. Just the two of us."

I remained silent.

He took my silence for acquiescence, a smug little smile playing on his lips. He thought he had me. He thought a fancy dinner could patch the gaping wound in our relationship.

I had planned to tell him I was going back to Napa. I had planned to tell him the truth about my family.

But looking at him now, at his casual deceit and monumental self-absorption, I realized he didn' t deserve the truth. He didn' t deserve any more of my words, my explanations, my energy.

He didn't deserve to know where I was going.