His Secretary Takes Charge

Chapter 3

After I got back from the hospital, I spent a few days resting at home.

I thought I'd finally get a bit of peace, but my phone wouldn't stop ringing.

Feeling drained, I answered. Ethan Carter's voice came through, flat and cold.

"I'm picking you up for dinner."

He hung up before I could respond.

Trying to avoid unnecessary conflict before the inevitable divorce, I pulled myself together and headed out.

When Ethan saw how pale and sluggish I looked, something flickered across his face. Then he spoke, as if suddenly remembering.

"I never picked up that ointment for you. The restaurant's near the hospital, I'll take you there first."

"There's no need," I said. "It's been days. I'm fine."

He let out a breath, like a weight had been lifted.

"Knew it. After all, it's been seven years. If anything still hurts, it's probably all in your head."

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Yeah. Seven years."

Seven years ago, I'd used every last ounce of strength to drag Ethan out of that fire, only to get crushed under a falling beam.

Three broken ribs. A fractured tailbone. The kind of pain that never quite goes away, one wrong move and it feels like I'm back there, under that beam again.

I never told him. I didn't want him to carry the guilt.

But if, after seven years, he still couldn't tell when I was hurting… did he ever really care?

As he drove, he started explaining himself.

"Chloe was pretty shaken after everything. I stayed a little longer to make sure she was okay. Don't blow it out of proportion."

I stared out the window, watching the blur of streetlights.

"I'm not blowing anything out of proportion. She's your secretary. It's only right you stay with her for a few days."

He frowned at my tone, like my indifference irritated him.

Then, slam. He hit the brakes suddenly, jerking the car and sending my earbuds sliding under the seat.

I leaned down to grab them, but my hand brushed against something else.

A swimsuit. Stuffed beneath the seat.

Two weeks ago, I would've snapped. Accused. Demanded answers.

Now, I just smiled, tossed it onto the backseat, and turned back toward the window.

Ethan's jaw tensed.

"Oh, that must be Chloe's. She probably forgot it after swim class."

I nodded, said nothing.

At dinner, a young couple sitting at the next table kept sneaking glances our way.

Eventually, the girl stood up and walked over, eyes wide with excitement.

"Wait, aren't you the CEO from Chloe Brooks' Instagram? You're even more handsome in person!"

Ethan glanced up briefly. "Can I help you?"

The girl grinned. "Are you and Chloe dating?"

He looked at me, sitting there in silence, picking at my food. Then he turned back to her with a faint smile.

"Yeah. Chloe and I are together."

I gave the girl a small, polite smile, even as a sharp cramp twisted through my lower stomach.

She blinked, confused. "Then… who's she?"

Ethan didn't hesitate.

"She's the housekeeper."