Shattered Vows- Falling for My Ex's Billionaire Enemy

RACHAEL'S POV

Sitting across from Amy, sunlight filtering through the café windows casting soft rays on our table, I am lost in our conversation reminiscing about the good old days.

"Remember that time we went to Ibiza for our birthdays?" Amy asks, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

"You almost missed the flight because you insisted on entering that store. "I laugh, shaking my head at the memory.

"Hey, I had to get those boots! They were gorgeous."

Amy raises her glass, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"And now look at us. Thirty and still day drinking like we're twenty-five." I clink my glass against hers, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through me, not just from the daytime drinks but from the joy of spending this moment with my best friend.

We had been through so much together, from wild nights in college and spontaneous trips to heartbreaks and new beginnings. Today felt like a nod to our youth, but with a touch of something deeper and more meaningful.

"I can't believe you're thirty," Amy says, setting her glass down and reaching for her purse.

"I got you something."

"Oh no, you didn't have to. Your sparkling company is enough." I tease."

She rolls her eyes and pulls out a small velvet box. I blink, surprised, as she hands it to me. I open the box slowly, and there it is: the necklace. The one I had seen when I was young, the one I had promised myself that I would buy the minute I started making money but never did.

"Amy..." My voice trails off as I run my fingers over the delicate chain, as it twinkles in the sunlight. It was exactly as I remembered. Simple, elegant.

"I know how much you wanted it," she says softly, watching me. "I thought it was time you had it."

Tears prick the corners of my eyes, but I blink back quickly, not wanting to get too emotional in public.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

After enjoying a few more sips of our drinks, I can't stop the excitement bubbling up inside me.

"You know, I have a feeling Jack's up to something today. He's been acting weird all week. I'm sure he's planning some sort of surprise party, and you're in on it too, aren't you?"

Amy looks at me innocently, but a guilty smile tugs at her lips. "Me? I have no idea what you're talking about, Rachael. I haven't seen Jack all week."

"Oh, please!" I laugh.

"You've been plotting this birthday lunch for days. I bet you're just stalling me so he can get everything ready at home." Amy shrugs, giving nothing away. We finish our drinks with a toast to the big three-oh.

"Happy birthday, my love," Amy says with a wink as we hug goodbye.

I leave the café a little tipsy, the necklace she had gifted me bouncing lightly against my chest as I walk to the car. My heart is racing with excitement, my mind spinning with thoughts of what Jack could have planned.

A party, maybe? Or a romantic dinner for two? I can't wait to get home and find out whatever it is.

When I arrive at our penthouse, I practically fly through the front door, expecting to hear laughter, music, or at least some sign of life. But instead, I am greeted by dead silence.

I pause, standing still at the entrance, my heart full of hope.

"Are they are hiding?" I smile to myself.

I tiptoe across the living room, my heels clicking softly on the wooden floor. I go to the kitchen and find it empty. Not a single plate is out of place. I head upstairs, my pulse quickening with each step, anticipating for the moment everyone will jump out with a loud "Surprise!"

But as I reach our bedroom, something cold and unsettling twists in my stomach. To my right, the closet door is open, and Jack's side is empty. His suits, shirts, shoes, and everything that he owns are gone. I rush to the suitcase rack, and I notice my big suitcase is missing.

"Jack?" I call out, my voice trembling now. I turn and hurry to the bathroom, pushing the door open. Then, I see it.

A note.

Stuck on the mirror, plain and unforgiving. The handwriting is his, unmistakable. My breath catches in my throat as I step closer, reading the few words scrawled across the paper:

*I'm leaving you. PS: Sorry to do this on your birthday.*

For a moment, I can't move. The world seems to tilt, and the silence that had filled the apartment is now echoing in my chest. I reach out and touch the note, the paper cold and sharp against my skin, like the words themselves.

I stare at the note for a few more seconds, a laugh bubbling up in my throat.

"Okay, Jack! This is a good one. You can come out now." My voice echoes through the apartment, but there is no answer.

My laughter grows, though it is more from being nervous than amused. This has to be part of the surprise. Some over-the-top, dramatic joke. Either way, Jack always had a flair for the theatrical. Maybe Amy was in on this too. The note is too ridiculous, right?

I step back into the hallway, expecting him to jump out from some hiding place or to hear footsteps, but the apartment remains eerily quiet. My heart starts to pound in my chest, faster than before. The uneasy feeling that had twisted in my gut earlier begins to return.

"Jack?" I call out again, trying to sound more confident. "Come on, you've had your fun. Where are you?"

Still nothing.

I race downstairs, my heels clattering against the steps as I reach for my purse. My fingers fumble inside until I find my phone. Quickly, i swipe to Jack's contact and press call, my pulse thumping louder in my ears.

The phone rings once, followed by the automated voice: "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I blink, staring at my phone screen, trying to process what I have just heard.

"I must have dialed wrong." I tell myself, hitting the call button again, more urgently this time.

"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

My heart sinks. I stand there, frozen, as the truth starts to creep in slowly. Jack isn't hiding. This isn't a joke. The note, the empty closet, the missing suitcase, it is all real.

I drop my phone into my purse, suddenly feeling dizzy. My legs tremble beneath me as I stumble toward the couch and collapse into the cushions. I stare at the living room in front of me, at the photos on the wall, the small mementos from our life together.

He is gone.

RACHAEL

This must be a twisted joke. It doesn't make sense. We were together for almost a decade. We'd been through everything together. The ups, downs, and struggles that you could think of that should have torn us apart somehow made us stronger. At least, that's what I thought.

Jack and I had met during our first year of college, a whirlwind romance that turned into a love I thought would last forever.

We fell for each other fast. Too fast, some might have said, but we didn't give a fuck what other people thought. He was my person. We navigated every stage of life side by side from graduating, getting our first jobs, moving in together, and finally, getting married. We went from being carefree young adults to responsible, mature people, taking on the world together.

I loved him more than anything. More than anyone. I thought he felt the same.

So how? How could this happen? Where had it gone wrong?

There were no signs, no arguments, no distance between us. If anything, I thought we were closer than ever. Sure, we had a few rough patches, but which marriage didn't? We were partners in every sense of the word. There was no indication that he was unhappy, no hint that he was struggling.

This is too much of a surprise.

I still can't move. My body feels disconnected from my mind, which is racing in a thousand directions, trying to grasp some sort of explanation or something that makes sense. But nothing does. Nothing adds up.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone again, thinking I might have missed something. Maybe a message, an email, or something to explain what is happening. But as I scroll through, the only thing waiting for me is the message from Amy earlier: *Have the best birthday, babe! You deserve it!*

I put the phone down and stare at the empty house, my chest tightening with each breath. Jack wouldn't just leave. He wouldn't just disappear like this, not without saying something. But the note... it is his handwriting. The closet is empty. His number is disconnected.

A sob builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. Tears blur my vision, but I fight them. I can't cry. Not yet. I have to get to the bottom of this. I need to know how we had gone from being in love to this? I always considered myself very intuitive, always aware of what was happening around me; therefore, this came as a shock.

There was no warning. No gradual drift apart. No fights about bills or kids we couldn't have. Nothing pointed to this moment.

My hands shake as I send a text. "Please come to the apartment as soon as you can." I stare at the screen briefly before pressing send, hoping Amy will get here quickly. I can't process this alone. I don't even know where to start.

The silence of the apartment is suffocating. Every second that passes seem to stretch on forever, and the only sound is my shallow breathing. I stand in the middle of the living room and my eyes dart around. I need answers. Somewhere in this house, there has to be something that explains why my husband has vanished, why he'd left me with nothing but a note on my birthday.

With shaky steps, I gather whatever strength I can muster and start going through the apartment. Drawers. Cushions. Closets. I tear through every inch of our lives, searching for anything, anything at all that can explain why Jack has done this to me.

I find myself rummaging through the trash bag, desperate now. It is disgusting, but I don't care. All I want is answers. I sift through crumpled receipts, empty takeout containers, and bits of discarded paper. Something catches my eye, a receipt from a jewelry store.

I freeze, as I stare at it.

If he was planning to leave me, why would he buy me a gift? A new wave of confusion washes over me. It doesn't make sense.

I turn the receipt over in my hands, my mind clouding with more questions.

Before I can spiral any further, I hear a knock on the door. I ran to answer it, my heart pounding in my chest. I open the door and there is Amy standing on the other side, her face filled with concern.

"Are you okay, Rachael?" she asks, stepping inside. "Your text seemed urgent."

"I think Jack has left me," I whisper, my voice breaking as I try to hold back the tears.

"I came home and found all his clothes gone. I've looked everywhere for clues, and the only thing I could find is this." I hand her the receipt, my fingers trembling as I do.

"He bought me a gift and then left?"

Amy stares at the receipt, her brows furrowing as she takes it all in. She sits down on the couch, too stunned to speak for a moment. The silence stretches between us, thick with uncertainty and disbelief. I sit next to her, my stomach in knots, waiting for her to say something, anything that might help me understand.

After what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks.

"What do you mean Jack left?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you guys were happy."

"Well, Amy, I thought so too," I reply, shaking my head in disbelief.

"I don't understand. What am I going to do?" My voice cracks, and a sob catches in my throat again.

Amy looks at me with wide eyes, then glances down at the receipt in her hand.

"Rachael could Jack be having an affair?" she asks slowly, as if testing the waters with each word.

"Maybe he bought the jewelry for her... and he left you for her?"

Her words hit me like a punch in the gut.

An affair? My Jack? The Jack I'd loved for nearly ten years? My mind recoils at the thought, but at the same time, the possibility sneaks its way into my consciousness. Could it be true? Could I have missed the signs?

I stare at Amy, my mouth dry, unable to answer. My mind still spinning. Everything feels like it is crashing down around me.

"How can you say that to me, Amy?" I snap, the words sharper than I intend.

"I think if he was having an affair, I would have known. No one is that good. He always came home, always answered my calls. He never did anything that would make me suspect something like that."

Amy bites her lip, looking like she regrets bringing it up.

RACHAEL

"We need to find him," I break the silence pacing the living room. "Call Ethan. Jack might have talked to him. They're best friends. If anyone knows what's going on, it's Ethan."

Ethan was Amy's husband; the four of us had been friends since college. Jack and Ethan had been inseparable since childhood, going to the same schools and eventually meeting Amy and me around the same time. If Jack is in trouble or has something on his mind, he would have confided in Ethan. He had to have.

Amy hesitates; her face clouded with doubt.

"Rachael, if Ethan knew something, he would've told me by now. I don't think we should involve him in this. It'll just make things more complicated."

I stop pacing and glare at her, my frustration boiling over. "Right now, Amy, I don't care about complications. I'd involve the entire planet if that's what it takes to get answers."

Amy sighs and reluctantly pulls out her phone. She dials Ethan's number and presses it to her ear. After a few rings, she lowers the phone with a frown. "He's not picking up."

I grab my car keys from the coffee table and head towards the door. "We have to go see him now," I bark.

"Rachael, wait!" Amy jumps up, following me. "You need to calm down. You're scaring me."

"Are you coming or not?" I shout, my voice trembling with desperation.

Amy's eyes widen, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she snatches the keys from my hand.

"Okay, fine, but I'm driving," she says firmly.

We leave the apartment in silence. The car ride to Amy and Ethan's house takes longer than usual, neither of us saying a word. I am too wrapped up in my thoughts, replaying every moment with Jack over the last few months, searching for some hidden clues that I had missed. Amy keeps her hands tight on the wheel, stealing nervous glances at me every now and then.

Before she can even park properly in the driveway, I jump out of the car and sprint to the front door. My heart pounding in my chest, my fingers trembling as I bang on the door with all my might.

"Ethan!" I yell, banging again. "Open the door!"

Silence.

I bang harder this time, my voice cracking with urgency. "Ethan! Open up!"

Finally, the door swings open, revealing a frustrated-looking Ethan. His face is a mix of anger and confusion.

"Are you insane?" he shouts, stepping forward. "I'm working!"

I stare at him, my chest heaving with the force of my emotions.

"Jack's gone," I say breathlessly. "He left me, Ethan. I need to know where he is. Did he talk to you? Did he say anything?"

Ethan's face softens for a split second, his eyes flicking over to Amy, who is standing behind me with a worried expression. He sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. "Come inside. Let's talk."

"I need you to breathe," Ethan says, his voice low but firm. "Amy, get her a glass of water."

Amy rushes into the kitchen, and I try to slow my breathing, but my heart is still pounding, my thoughts racing. A moment later, she returns with the glass, pressing it into my hands.

"Thanks," I mutter, taking a small sip before setting it down. "But I think I might need something stronger." I shoot a look toward Amy. "Pour me a shot of whiskey."

Amy and Ethan exchange worried glances. "Are you sure you want to drink?" Ethan asks, his concern clear in his tone.

"Yes," I answer firmly, not in the mood for coddling.

With a sigh, Amy turns and walk back to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. A few moments later, she comes back with a shot glass filled with whiskey and hands it to me. The amber liquid slosh in the glass as I raise it to my lips and down it in one go. The burn is immediate, but it barely registers compared to the fire burning in my chest.

I slump down into a chair, the weight of everything hitting me all at once.

"Ethan, have you seen or spoken to Jack today?" I finally ask, my voice shaking. "I came home after my birthday lunch with Amy, and I found all his things gone. Can you tell me what's going on?"

I watch Ethan closely as I ask the question, and his face falters-just for a moment. His reaction isn't a surprise. It is something else. A flicker of guilt? Or maybe it is knowledge he is trying to hide.

"Ethan," I call slowly, my voice hardening. "You know something. Spill. Right now."

Ethan hesitates, looking between me and Amy before running a hand through his hair.

"Okay," he finally admits, letting out a long breath.

"Well... yesterday, we were having drinks, and Jack mentioned that he was unhappy. He said he was thinking about leaving."

My breath catches in my throat.

"Leaving?" My voice is barely a whisper, the word too big to fully grasp. "He said he was thinking about leaving me?"

Ethan nods, his expression filled with regret.

"That's all he said. I thought he was joking or just drunk. I didn't think he was serious."

I stare at him, my mind reeling. Unhappy? Jack was unhappy. How had I missed this? I thought we were fine. No, more than fine-we were happy, weren't we? We had our routine, our life together, our plans for the future. There hadn't been any signs... at least none that I saw.

I feel the weight of Ethan's words sink in, slowly, like a dagger twisting into my chest. Jack had been unhappy and I didn't know. And now... he is gone. The full reality of the situation crashes over me, and my heart shatters into a million pieces.

I slump deeper into the chair, staring at the floor as the pain finally hit me. This isn't some cruel joke. Jack isn't coming back. He had really left.