Farewell to Love: The CEO's Desperate Chase novel Chapter 145

In the photo, Vivienne's face was streaked with tears. She'd been crying so hard her lips still bore the smeared traces of blood, as if she'd tried to wipe them but hadn't quite managed it.

Vivienne had coughed up blood.

Over the phone, her voice trembled as she sobbed, "Tyler, can you come see me?"

"I just feel so awful."

Tyler shut his eyes, his brow furrowed tight.

"All right," he finally said.

Emilia stood right there; Tyler hadn't bothered to step away when he took the call.

So she knew—Vivienne wanted him.

"Aren't you going to her?" Emilia asked quietly. "I know you want to."

Tyler pressed his lips into a hard line and stared at her coldly.

He wanted to say he was only going for Vivienne's illness, that was all. But when he met her bitter, contemptuous eyes, the words caught in his throat.

He stood, changed clothes, grabbed his car keys, and left the room without another glance.

At the front door, though, he paused. For a moment, he looked back at Emilia's bedroom—her door was shut tight. Then he turned away and left the house.

—

Emilia watched from upstairs until Tyler's car disappeared down the drive, and only then did she finally breathe out, shaky with relief.

She hurried over, locked the door, then dragged the heavy side table across to barricade it. Only then did she slump to the floor, her strength gone.

Clutching her collar—still faintly scented with Tyler's cologne—she squeezed her eyes shut.

He'd been right; in her drunken state, there was no way she could get home tonight. She was stuck here.

They were still married, technically. There had been so many nights tangled up in each other, two children between them. But now Tyler had Vivienne. He'd left, burning with urgency, to go to her. And afterward, he'd…

Even knowing all that, Emilia couldn't help herself.

She didn't want him anymore. She'd made that decision long ago.

—

"Sir! Sir!" Dailey called after him, voice echoing in the night.

Tyler glanced in the rearview mirror, caught a glimpse of the old man standing forlornly behind him—and then he was gone.

His Bentley sped through the night, headlights cutting through the darkness. Tyler stared straight ahead, his mind in turmoil. He didn't know what he was feeling—everything was a mess.

His life, once so organized and controlled, now felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

That scared him.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.

Vivienne's illness was serious. He needed to see her.

He drove across the city, finally parking outside her building.

He climbed the stairs, rang the bell.

Moments later, Vivienne opened the door.