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"Everyone's saying Evelyn Shaw just had her heart publicly stomped by her boy-toy!" Alex snorted. "How freaking tragic. Tell me again why she's such a glutton for punishment? Why pick the viper over you?"
When I didn't immediately respond, engrossed in real estate listings for coastal towns, Alex nudged me sharply. "Earth to Liam! You processing this glorious karma?"
Then he froze. His eyes widened, fixed on a point behind me. I turned slowly.
Evelyn stood there. She was still wearing the stunning silver gown from the gala, but it looked absurdly out of place now, smudged and slightly torn. The sharp, imperious CEO was gone. In her place stood a woman hollowed out by shock and grief. Her face was haggard, eyes swollen and red-raw. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. As her eyes met mine, fresh tears welled and spilled over, tracing paths through ruined makeup. She looked utterly lost.
"Liam." Her voice was a broken whisper.
In all our years, I'd only seen Evelyn cry twice: once when she found me after the kidnapping, and once at my mother's funeral. This was the third time. And this was different. This wasn't fierce pain or shared grief. This was the shattered, bewildered weeping of a child who'd broken their most precious toy.
"I was wrong." The words tumbled out, choked and desperate. "So wrong. I messed up, Liam. I messed up everything." She took a shuddering step closer. "I lost you. I... I threw you away." She wiped futilely at the tears. "I didn't love Owen. I swear I didn't. I was just... angry. Hurt. I didn't believe you'd really leave. Even when you sold the shares... I thought it was a tactic. A ploy." Her voice cracked. "I thought you were just... punishing me. So I leaned into Owen. I wanted to make you jealous. I wanted you to come back, begging." A sob racked her frame. "I forgot... I forgot it was mewho begged youto love me in the first place." She sank to her knees on the pavement outside Alex's apartment building, her expensive gown pooling around her, heedless of the grime. "Liam... please." The proud woman who built an empire from nothing knelt on the concrete, her pride shattered, her spirit broken, begging for forgiveness I couldn't give.
I used to be attuned to her every flicker of discomfort. A frown from her could send me scrambling to fix things. But the well of empathy had run dry. Exhaustion had set in bone-deep. Watching her kneel there, weeping uncontrollably, I felt nothing but a vast, weary emptiness. A sense of finality.
"Evelyn." My voice was calm, devoid of anger, devoid of warmth. Just a simple statement of fact. I looked down at her, my eyes meeting hers, reflecting no emotion. "We can't go back." The reasons were etched in stone: her choice of Owen, her refusal to stand by me, her readiness to blame me, her tacit approval of Owen's constant, insidious attacks. "That path is closed." She stayed on her knees, pouring out her regret, her self-recrimination, for what felt like hours. Alex shifted uncomfortably beside me, muttering "Jesus, this is brutal," but didn't intervene. Eventually, seeing the unwavering indifference in my eyes, the complete lack of the reaction she desperately sought, the words dried up. The hopelessness seemed to settle over her like a shroud. She slowly, awkwardly, pushed herself up from the pavement, avoiding my gaze. Without another word, she turned and walked away, a figure of profound desolation disappearing into the twilight.
Alex let out a long breath. "Well. That was... intense." He shuddered theatrically. "The Great Snot Fountain has left the building!" He draped an arm over my shoulders, pitching his voice into a high, mocking whine. "Liiiiiaaam!" he simpered. "I waaaaas wroooong!" I managed a faint, weary smile and shoved him off. "Shut up, Alex."
He grinned. "Seriously, though. Where we headed? You mentioned relocation plans?" He waggled his eyebrows. "Rich boy finally gonna make an honest man outta me? Take me to a tropical paradise?"
I laughed, the sound genuine, clearing some of the lingering heaviness. "Something like that. Pick a coast." We spent the next few days researching, finally settling on a quiet seaside town in Maine. As we finalized the move, news broke from Riverside. Evelyn Shaw had liquidated her remaining shares in Ward Enterprises, converting everything into cash. The staggering sum appeared in my bank account overnight. Then, she vanished. Two weeks later, she reappeared – not at the office, but staking out Owen Cooper's new apartment. When he finally came home alone, she lunged from the bushes, a kitchen knife flashing in the streetlight. Paramedics found Owen bleeding heavily on his doorstep, Evelyn arrested nearby, eerily calm.
"Whoa!" Alex shoved his phone under my nose, showing the news clip. "Ex-Wife Psycho! Who knew she had stabby rage in her?" He watched the footage of Evelyn being led away, her expression blank. "Man, think she spent those weeks plotting revenge on ustoo? Picturing us as pincushions? Thank god we got out!" He dramatically patted his chest. "Dodged a freaking bullet, my friend. Kept my vital organs intact!"
Later that day, as I packed the last box, a single text message appeared on my phone. It was scheduled, sent automatically. From Evelyn.
[Liam, I would have died on the street years ago without you. You gave me a chance. You gave me life. I'm returning it now. I'm giving it all back.]
And later still, the final news report came through. Evelyn Shaw was found in her temporary rental. An empty pill bottle beside her. No note, beyond the text. They said she looked peaceful. They said she was smiling.
