The Sensible Facade

With the line to Tamsin severed, Cordelia tapped Gideon’s contact without missing a beat.

"Darling, I passed out the minute I boarded," she said, letting her tone slide into an easy, rehearsed softness. "Mr. Beaumont called an emergency meeting and pulled me out here on zero notice. I was stressed out and forgot to text you before takeoff. I'm sorry. I'm already in Valerius."

On the other end of the connection, Gideon’s quiet stretched out. He had obviously run a check on the flight manifests and confirmed she had landed in Valerius just as she claimed.

"You're angry with me?" His voice sounded clipped, heavy with an underlying exhaustion.

Her sudden departure and the silent treatment at thirty thousand feet had clearly grated on his nerves.

"Should I be angry? I didn't think twice about it," Cordelia answered, smoothing every trace of friction out of her voice. "We can sort through everything once I'm back in town."

"Fine. I'll come get you at the gate when your flight lands." He cut the call before she could reply.

Cordelia sat motionless, staring blankly at the dark screen. A bitter, sour question crept up through her thoughts: *Why am I the one apologizing? Exactly how submissive do I have to be before I fit his definition of an ideal wife?*

Her mouth twisted into a humorless smile as she glanced up through the terminal glass toward the gray sky.

A legal wife was expected to swallow her dignity, stay polite, and smile through every insult. A mistress, on the other hand, was handed total freedom to throw tantrums and stake her claim without facing a single consequence.

It was sickeningly obvious where his devotion actually lay.

She snapped a photo of the baggage carousel through the glass, opened Instagram, and posted it with a caption: [The grass isn't greener anywhere else. Missing home, missing you.]

That public update was crafted specifically for Mallory’s eyes.

Mallory had been clawing for every opportunity to chase her out of Oakhaven. Knowing the kind of person Mallory was, she would waste zero time trying to mark Gideon as her personal property the second she thought the coast was clear.

To someone like Mallory, climbing into the bed Cordelia shared with her husband was a trophy worth bragging about.

To Cordelia, the mere thought of it was filthy.

It was repulsive on every level.

Pushing down the sour taste rising in her throat, Cordelia pulled open the passenger door of Bianca's car and slid inside.

"Cordelia, tell me you didn't just let Gideon and that trash off the hook," Bianca snapped, her knuckles pale against the steering wheel. She had spent the last two days sleepless and sick with fury on her friend's behalf. "If it were me, I’d march straight into the boardroom and rip them both to shreds in front of the entire company."

Cordelia took off her dark sunglasses, resting her temple against the cool glass of the passenger window. Her voice came out low and depleted. "Storming into his office just hands him the divorce on a silver platter. It hands them an excuse, and it gives Gideon every reason to say I'm unstable and unreasonable. Why would I make it that easy on them?"

Bianca shot her an anxious look, her irritation giving way to raw concern. "Then what’s the play here?"

"Hitting his wallet or his reputation won't break him," Cordelia replied coldly, shutting her eyes against a dull ache pounding behind her forehead. "I want him buried under so much guilt that he owes me for every breath he takes for the rest of his miserable life."

Bianca nodded without hesitation. "Whatever you decide, I’m in your corner."

Cordelia allowed a small, genuine smile to break through. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Bianca eased off the gas and steered into the underground garage of her residential complex.

"Most of the tenants in this building are Clusians," Bianca explained as they stepped out into the lobby. "A lot of them are foreign students, so the building management gives them decent perks. Oh, and that ridiculously gorgeous guy I told you about? Killian lives directly across the hall from my unit."

"Killian? Sounds fancy," Cordelia murmured, trying to pull herself out of the dark slump weighing down her chest. "How hot are we talking? Does he come with a chiseled six-pack and massive pecs?"

The elevator chime rang, and the metal doors slid open instantly.

Cordelia stepped forward before checking the space in front of her and plowed headfirst into a solid wall of muscle.

The man standing in the doorway was at least six-foot-two, wearing a casual crewneck. An exceptionally fresh, subtle scent drifted from him—clean soap and fresh air, entirely free of synthetic cologne—and for a split second, it caught her completely off guard.

Four years ago, she had rushed into marrying Gideon because of that exact first impression: he had seemed like the cleanest, sharpest man she had ever crossed paths with.

"K-Killian..." Bianca squeaked, her face freezing into a painful, mortified grin.

Cordelia kept her chin tucked to her chest, entirely unable to appreciate the view because hot, metallic blood was already pouring down her upper lip.

Killian tilted his head down, taking her in with an amused, searching expression. His smile was dazzling, effortless enough to rival anyone on a movie screen. "My fault. I shouldn't have been blocking the way. Let me drive you to the clinic."

Bianca slapped a hand over her own eyes, wishing the floor would open up and swallow them whole.

"No... I'm good," Cordelia stammered through her fingers, clamping her hand over her nose before spinning on her heel and bolting down the hall, dragging Bianca along by the sleeve.

*God, kill me now,* Cordelia groaned mentally. *He definitely heard every word about his chest.*

Drowning in sheer humiliation, the two women scrambled toward Bianca’s door with their heads down, completely forgetting their heavy rolling bags left standing inside the open elevator car.

"Bianca, you forgot your luggage," Killian called out, his deep voice carrying easily over the carpeted corridor as he wheeled both bags behind them. He stopped right beside them with a faint smirk. "Is this the friend you said you wanted to introduce to me?"

Bianca snatched the handle of her suitcase, her cheeks burning red. "Yeah. This is Cordelia. My best friend."

"You two should stop by my place later tonight if you're free," Killian said, his eyes settling warmly on Cordelia's face. "It's my birthday today."

A sudden, breathless ache struck Cordelia right in the center of her chest, knocking the air straight out of her lungs.

The way Killian smiled under the warm hallway light was an exact, devastating mirror of an old friend who had vanished from her world years ago.

A friend who had once meant everything to her.