Chapter 23

In the quiet of her hospital room, Hannah stared at the photo on her phone-zooming in, then out, then in again. She had no idea how many times she'd done that. In the photo, Brinley leaned against Vincent, her arm looped around his, and he didn't seem intent to push her away.

Brinley's message taunted Hannah beneath the image. "One call from me and Vincent dropped you flat. How does it feel, Hannah? He always comes running for me."

A second blow landed-a screenshot of Vincent's call log with a long row of missed calls. Twenty-one,no less. Brinley twisted the knife further. "Look at this. He couldn't find me and went completely crazy."

That number jabbed through Hannah's chest,sharp as any knife. It pulled up memories she'd tried to

bury: all those times she'd dialed Vincent, over and over, only to have every call go unanswered. Not once had he bothered to call her back. So he did know how to panic. He just never did it for her. For him, she was only ever the substitute-never the real thing.

Hannah's mind flashed back to the excuse Vincent had tossed out before leaving: a work crisis, a last-minute rush back to the office. But the truth was obvious now. He'd gone straight to Brinley's side.Another lie-one more in a string that had always been for someone else. Just moments ago, he'd been laughing with her, trying to steal a kiss-until his old flame beckoned, and he vanished without a backward glance.

A cold ache pressed into Hannah's chest. In five years of marriage, she'd never been the woman who got chosen first-never his clear priority. When Danica hurled insults at her, she'd reached for Vincent's number, only to be brushed off with the claim of being swamped with work. Whenever high-society heirs and their friends mocked her for not being polished enough, she'd planned to confide in him at dinner. But he hadn't come home-she'd stayed up all night, waiting for a door that didn't open.

Hannah had ventured to Vincent's workplace, only to catch wind of the staff's harsh whispers. "She's just his mistress," they'd said, dismissing her as if she meant nothing. Those cruel words had been thrown her way nonstop until she knew them by heart.Every visit ended the same way-she had always been asked to wait in the secretary's lounge while Vincent was perpetually "in a meeting," "signing papers," or,on one occasion, flying overseas while she was left behind sulking over another fruitless trip.

There had been so many days like that-so many times she wanted to confront him but couldn't even find him. And he always had the same excuse, "I'm busy." Eventually, she'd stopped chasing after him.

Then, on the day she went in for a routine checkup,she'd caught Vincent checking in at a hotel with Brinley. When she called, he'd lied without flinching. If she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, how many more of his so-called "busy" days would have fooled her?

Marriage to Vincent had hardened Hannah. She learned to build walls, to never let her hurt show,and -most important of all-to stop running to him for comfort when things fell apart.

Hannah shook her head and snapped out of her thoughts, taking a deep breath to steady herself.When her final IV finished dripping, she pressed the call button, let the nurse remove the needle, and walked out of the hospital on her own. Instead of asking Derek to fetch her,she hailed a taxi.

Back at the Jones estate, Vincent escorted Brinley to the guest suite on the third floor. "Take a shower and get some rest," he said, glancing at his watch. By now, Hannah's IV treatment at the hospital should be over.

"Vincent, could you stay?" Brinley's hand gripped his wrist, her gaze pleading and haunted. "I keep replaying everything that happened. I'm really frightened."

He hesitated and then gently disengaged her grip."I'll ask my mother to come keep you company," he suggestedd, making it clear he had no intention of lingering.

Her voice trembled with longing. "We've known each other since we were children. Couldn't you stay-just for a while?"

Drawing a clear boundary,Vincent shook his head."I'm a married man," he replied, retreating a step.

"But you almost married me, didn't you?" Her words barely rose above a whisper.

Vincent met her gaze directly. "But the one Iactually married was Hannah."

He let the words hang between them before adding,"You've always understood the reason I was gentle with you. Don't mistake kindness for something more."