From Neglected Wife to CEO’s Obsession novel Chapter 37

It was just the passenger seat. Nothing special. Honestly, if she’d snapped a selfie sitting on that gearshift, now that would’ve been a win for me.

One thing I knew for sure: I was completely over Remy.

“Avery, get out of the car.” Remy’s voice was tight, almost desperate, as he moved to follow me.

Elliot’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, his face blank. He pressed the gas and the car shot forward, leaving Remy in the dust. In the mirror, I caught a glimpse of Remy slamming his car door shut, looking ready to explode.

“So, what’s this—domestic drama or a jealous lover?” Elliot nodded toward the bruise on my forehead.

I hesitated. How was I supposed to answer that?

“A little of both, I guess. But neither really fits.”

Elliot grinned, clearly entertained. “Guess the more you put up with, the more scars you collect.”

I shot him a look. Seriously?

Twenty minutes later, we pulled up at my place. I jumped out, but Elliot called after me, “Ms. Greenwood, remember—life’s too short to keep making yourself miserable for other people.”

I blinked. “Uh, yeah. Got it.”

He sounded just like my dad.

The first year I was married, Marissa made my life a nightmare. I broke down and went home sobbing. My dad—sick in bed—told me almost the exact same thing.

Thinking of him brought a wave of sadness I couldn’t shake.

Out of everyone in this world, there’s not a single person left who’s really family to me.

My eyes got wet.

God, I missed my parents.

A vein throbbed at Remy’s temple. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grinding. “Why didn’t you get in my car?”

I turned slightly, shrugged, held up my hands. “Come on, Remy. You know I’ve got standards. I don’t do leftovers. I won’t get in a car someone else already used—or be with a man someone else has touched. Not today, not ever.”

Remy glared, about to snap back when his phone rang.

He answered on speaker. “What?”

Mike’s voice came through, all business. “Mr. Thompson, I checked. Mrs. Thompson visited seven law firms this morning. None would take her divorce case. Should I keep tracking her?”

Remy shot me a look, acting like getting caught spying on me was no big deal. “She knows we’re watching. She’ll probably switch things up. Hold off for now.”

After hanging up, he turned back to me, back in his smooth, gentle-husband mode, wearing that smug little smile. “Running all over town this morning—you must be exhausted, Avery. What do you want for lunch? Your husband will cook.”

I gave him a bright, angry smile. “Sure. Let’s start with some braised ex-girlfriend, then maybe a side of stir-fried wandering hands, and for soup, how about a nice light broth of men who can’t stop going back to their exes? Sounds like a full menu, chef. Knock yourself out.”