Filed to story: When His Wife Can’t Forgive
“Are you this two-faced, Alicia?” His dark eyes, filled with disapproval, bore into hers. “You act like a stranger when we aren’t in bed,” he accused.
His grip was painful, yet her heart felt nothing.
Desiring no confrontation, she replied softly, “We’ve made our position clear. What is it that you don’t understand?”
“I understand. But do you?” he countered. “If you wanted to end things, why reach out to me afterward?”
Alicia paused, struck by the question, then realized her mistake. Avoiding his gaze, she confessed, “I wanted to apologize to you.”
Caden’s sneer deepened, his disbelief evident.
His smile sent a chill through her.
He clearly doubted her sincerity.
Anger and confusion filled Alicia that night. So, she had reached out to apologize.
Why would he believe her sincerity? In his eyes, she was merely a source of pleasure, and any interaction between them was inevitably tied to sexual encounters. She was not Yolanda, and that difference loomed large between them. Caden considered Yolanda his equal in status and skill, calling a marriage to her “a bargaining chip” in his candid moments.
Tears welled up in Alicia’s eyes as she spoke softly. “I was wrong. Making that call was a mistake. I shouldn’t have faltered and spoken so irrationally with you for so long.”
Caden’s face remained expressionless, his emotions carefully concealed. The air between them grew heavy with tension.
She gathered her courage and faced him. “What are we going to do?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Do you want another intimate encounter? I’ll agree this time, and you can decide what happens. But after that, we go our separate ways. Is that acceptable?”
A flash of anger flickered in Caden’s eyes, not from desire, but from rage. He released her hand abruptly, his voice cold as ice.
“Do I really scare you that much? To be free of me, you’d propose something like this?”
Alicia stood frozen, her vision blurred by tears. Ashamed of being pitied by him, she turned away, unable to stop the tears that fell, betraying her distress. Panicking, she rushed to her car.
Caden, unbothered, returned to his own vehicle and lit a cigarette. The nicotine briefly numbed his senses.
Alicia’s car roared to life and vanished into the neon-lit night ahead. A mocking smile curled on Caden’s lips as he pondered whether he was ridiculing Alicia or loathing himself.
His phone lit up with a new message. Yolanda’s text read, “Sorry, Caden, I stained your scarf. I’ve bought a replacement. May I bring it over tomorrow?”
Caden read her considerate words. Her message highlighted her compliance and thoughtfulness, a sharp contrast to the turmoil Alicia left behind.
Caden wondered why Alicia couldn’t adopt the traits that others seemed to have. Wouldn’t they be happier if Alicia were more submissive, more typical?
Just as this thought began to settle, it agitated him once again. He grimaced, started the car, and drove off.
The following day, Yolanda arrived early at the company, holding a scarf identical to the original. Caden, preoccupied with his own thoughts, didn’t meet her. Instead, Hank greeted her at the door.
“Miss Moss, it’s best you return home for the day. Mr. Ward will be occupied and cannot meet with you,” Hank said.
Yolanda, always understanding when to advance and when to retreat, smiled politely. “Please convey to him that he is welcome to dine at Joy Mansion tonight if he is available. Ciara misses him.”
Hank nodded in acknowledgment and passed on the message to Caden. Caden responded indifferently, “We’ll see.”
Hank noticed the tension in Caden’s demeanor and suspected it had something to do with Alicia. He offered a quiet observation.
“Miss Moss is quite polite and gentle,” Hank remarked, placing the scarf next to Caden. “It’s unfortunate that she’s not to your taste.”
“Do you know that for sure?” Caden replied coldly.
“Do you have feelings for Miss Moss?” Hank asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Caden scowled in response, his mood darkening. Restlessness overcame him, and he threw aside the document he had been holding.
The scarf sat beside his hand, a stark reminder of the one he had discarded the previous night. His mind began to flood with memories-scattered images from the past resurfacing.
He suddenly recalled the day he had argued with Alicia.
“Hank.” Caden’s voice broke the silence. “Did Alicia ever give me a scarf similar to this one?”
Hank was momentarily taken aback. He examined the scarf closely, trying to recall. “I believe so-it’s been some time. That was the last day Ms. Bennett was here.”
Caden fell silent, realization washing over him. The connection became clear.
The conflict between them had escalated quickly, and they had parted ways under strained circumstances. Caden had carelessly thrown the scarf aside, unaware of where it might end up. However, Yolanda had found it and flaunted it in front of Alicia before he eventually discarded it into the bin.
If his memory served him correctly, that scarf had been the first significant gift Alicia had ever given him.
He turned to Hank and asked, “Do you remember the look on Alicia’s face when she last visited?”
Hank recalled the moment vividly. “She was ecstatic. Her eyes were shining brightly, like stars. I even joked about whether she was planning a date with you after work.”
Caden felt a tightness in his chest, a weight of regret pressing down on him. He knew Alicia had feelings for him and could only imagine the high hopes she had when preparing the gift. Yet, he had discarded her heartfelt gesture as if it were mere trash.
His expression soured as he tossed the scarf to Hank. “Here, take this,” he said, his voice cold.
Hank caught the scarf awkwardly, feeling its weight like a hot potato. “But sir, Miss Moss bought this specifically for you.”
“I don’t want it,” Caden retorted sharply. “If it’s of no use to you, throw it away or use it for cleaning.”
Frustration welled up inside him as he considered that Alicia’s unusual behavior the previous night might have stemmed from these misunderstandings. She was usually quick-witted, yet she had chosen to remain silent in crucial moments. If she felt jealous or hurt, why couldn’t she just say so? Instead, she had opposed him at every turn.
Determined not to indulge her any longer, Caden decided to put the matter behind him.
Following Caden’s instructions, Hank made a reservation at a trendy new restaurant. As they drove, Caden glanced at the map and instructed Hank to take a detour.
Hank, curious, asked, “Are we stopping to pick something up, sir?”
Caden replied indifferently, “No, there’s hardly any traffic on this route.”
Hank glanced at the navigation screen. “But the recommended route isn’t congested either, and taking your suggested path adds about twenty minutes.”
Caden gave him a sharp look. “Do I need to repeat myself for you to understand?”
Taken aback, Hank decided to let it go. After all, Caden was the boss.
Halfway through the drive, Caden instructed Hank to stop. Stepping out, he entered a high-end men’s boutique.
Hank stayed in the car as ordered, but he couldn’t help noticing the signature scarf displayed in the window. He blinked in surprise. Was he seeing things? What was Caden up to?
A few minutes later, Caden emerged from the store wearing an identical scarf. As he settled back into the car, Hank stared at him in disbelief.
“What’s with the look?” Caden shot back, his gaze icy. “Do you want one too?”
Hank shook his head in confusion. “Ms. Bennett bought you one that you threw away. Miss Moss got you another, which you gave to me. Now you’ve bought the same one. Mr. Ward, what’s going on?”
Caden replied flatly, “I’m unwell.”
Hank was momentarily speechless. Caden had a knack for brutal honesty.
Meanwhile, Alicia was deeply engrossed in her work at the gallery. In the early stages of preparation, she had been incredibly busy and highly motivated. Her previous successes in the industry had attracted numerous clients, and everything was progressing more smoothly than she had anticipated. She attributed this to good fortune-until that particular evening.
Alicia had already downed five glasses of wine in a row when a client refilled her glass without hesitation. As he filled it to the brim, his hand casually drifted to her thigh. Alicia instinctively pulled away.
Noticing her reaction, the man frowned and said, “Ms. Bennett, drinking too much isn’t good for your health. I’ve heard you’re somewhat allergic to alcohol, and even with medication, it’s risky. Why push yourself so hard?”
Although Alicia hadn’t encountered such a situation before, she knew how to handle lecherous men like him. Keeping her composure, she responded with a calm smile. “Mr. Tingey, I’d hate to spoil the mood, and I’m well aware of the unspoken rules.”
She lifted her glass with both hands, locking eyes with him. “Cheers to you, Mr. Tingey.”
Closing her eyes, she downed the entire drink in one go. She would rather endure the wine than engage in his lewd games. Mr. Tingey watched her, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face.
He opened the contract and picked up his pen, a smug smile playing on his lips. “I’ve been one of your biggest investors since the gallery opened, Ms. Bennett. Is drinking the only way you can show your gratitude?”
He poised the pen over the paper, writing down his first name.
Alicia knew that if she played along, his full signature would follow, unlocking tens-possibly hundreds-of millions of dollars in investment.
It could free her from the endless cycle of socializing and chasing deals. But as she looked at his plump face, a wave of nausea churned in her stomach. She knew this deal was off the table.
Setting her glass down, Alicia turned to her assistant. “Please escort Mr. Tingey to his car. I’ll be out in a moment.”
She turned to leave, but Mr. Tingey wasn’t ready to let her go. “Ms. Bennett,” he called, his voice laced with arrogance. “At this point, is it really necessary to keep up this hypocritical act?”
Alicia stopped and slowly turned to face him. Her expression was cold. “Would you like me to puke on your face?” she retorted.
Mr. Tingey’s eyes widened in shock, and he jumped back, startled.
Alicia offered him a mocking smile before walking away toward the restroom.
Once inside, the reality of the night hit her. She had forced down drink after drink, and her body was revolting. She leaned over the sink, vomiting until her face turned pale, and her throat burned from the acid.
By the time she finished, she was so intoxicated that her vision swam. After washing her hands, she stepped out of the restroom, gripping the wall for support as she walked slowly toward the exit.
The corridor was growing increasingly crowded.
Out of the corner of her eye, Alicia caught sight of a familiar figure. She halted and looked over to see Caden approaching, Yolanda gracefully by his side. Together, they looked like the perfect couple.
He noticed her, but his gaze was cold and indifferent.
Fully aware of her disheveled state, Alicia tried to stand tall, but the effort made her head spin. She felt as though she could collapse at any moment, so she stayed still, subtly leaning against the wall for support. As they walked past her, engaged in quiet conversation, Yolanda glanced back and whispered, “Caden, shouldn’t you help Ms. Bennett?”
Caden didn’t hesitate. “Ignore her,” he said flatly, his tone cutting.
Alicia felt her heart sink as she lowered her head. Perhaps she had held onto a flicker of hope at first, but now it was extinguished, replaced by a wave of disappointment and bitterness that threatened to consume her.