Chapter 3

Dominick's grip tightened on Paisley's wrist, making her gasp. "Paisley, who was that?" he demanded, his eyes burning into hers. "The one who called you—was it him?" The air crackled. He remembered her "darling" on the phone—a term never used for him in their four years of marriage.

"None of your business," Paisley murmured, wrenching her wrist free. Dominick started to step closer, but before he could speak, a voice cut through the tension.

"Dom, so this is where you've been," Marissa purred, appearing beside him, radiant in a tailored outfit. Her voice dripped with casual warmth. "Mother was so happy to see you. Said I don't take enough care of you." She laughed, stepping closer to Dominick. "Honestly, I'm the wronged one. You came here yourself. Explain it to Mom next time, alright?"

Only then did Marissa notice Paisley. Her smile was swift, almost practiced. "Ms. Sutton? You're back?" The smile was dazzling, but Paisley saw the calculating look in Marissa's eyes. Feeling a wave of boredom, Paisley turned and left.

Later, in the living room, Emery handed Paisley a cup of milk. "Still haven't cleared things up with him?"

Emery, Paisley's designer friend from Brightmoor, had a sharp eye and sharper opinions.

Paisley sipped the milk. "No. I didn't explain anything."

"Why not?" Emery exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

Paisley leaned back, a bitter smile playing on her lips. "We're divorced. There's nothing to explain. Besides, he's about to remarry."

"With that bitch?"

"That bitch," Emery's usual term for Marissa. Paisley had long since given up correcting her. Their marriage had crumbled because of both of them, not just Marissa. But the sting remained. It hadn't been a simple villain-hero story; they'd just drifted apart.

"Yeah, that's her," Paisley said quietly.

Emery shook her head. "You're like one of those silent heroines from those romance novels—driving everyone crazy!"

Paisley chuckled. "Mistaken. In those novels, I'm not the heroine. Dominick's fiancée is the main character, and I'm the venomous second lead." She imagined herself through Marissa's eyes: the woman who vanished, then reappeared to disrupt the perfect life. In those stories, she'd be the villain, cast aside in the end. But she wasn't interested in playing that part. Dominick was stale bread, long past its expiration date.

"By the way," Emery said, "did you see your ex-husband today? And your ungrateful—"

The mention of Grayson, her son, made Paisley flinch. She hadn't seen him in four years. He was seven now.

Before she could dwell on it, a small voice broke her thoughts. "Mommy."

Serena, her youngest daughter, rushed into her arms, still wet from her bath. Paisley held her close. "Why didn't you dry your hair?" she scolded gently.

Marta, their nanny, chuckled. "Rena heard your voice and couldn't wait. She missed you."

Paisley smiled. Serena, like her, was stubborn. Serena peeked from under the towel. "Mommy, I was good. Can I skip kindergarten tomorrow?"

Paisley ruffled her hair. "No, sweetheart. You have to go."

Serena's face fell. "Okay," she murmured.

Serena had been conceived just before the divorce. Paisley hadn't mentioned her to Dominick. It would only stir up old feelings.

Paisley had enrolled Serena in a prestigious school, thanks to Emery's connections.

At the school gate, Paisley hugged Serena tightly. Serena's face was scrunched up, trying to hold back tears. Paisley's heart ached.

"Mommy, I'll behave. You'll pick me up first, right?" Serena pouted.

Paisley wanted to run away, but Serena was old enough for kindergarten. It was the right thing, though it didn't make it any easier. The teacher gave them space to say goodbye.

A car pulled up. Inside, Grayson stared blankly ahead.

"Sonny, what are you looking at?" Stella Prescott asked, following his gaze. Her eyes widened as she saw Paisley with Serena.

"Sonny, are you thinking about your mommy?"

Grayson's face darkened. "Don't talk about that vile woman. She doesn't deserve to be my mother. I would never miss her."

Stella's eyes widened. "You're right, Sonny. But your new mommy... she loves you so much. She'll be your real mommy then."

Grayson's face softened slightly. "Yeah, if Marissa could be my mom, that would be great."