The Wife He Tried To Erase (by Gavin) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Tristan shrugged off his jacket, revealing a snug black T–shirt that hugged his muscular frame.

His strength was unreal–heavy boxes that would’ve taken me ages to move looked like playthings

in his hands.

He hefted four or five at a time without breaking a sweat, his focus razor–sharp as he worked.

With him around, Lona and I suddenly felt like spare parts.

Lona lounged nearby, slurping a milkshake and scrolling through her phone, perfectly content to boss her brother around.

I ducked into the stockroom, pretending to fuss over inventory, but my mind was a chaotic mess.

My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.

I never could’ve imagined that my daughter’s father would turn out to be Lona’s brother.

I tried to calm myself, whispering under my breath, “Come on. Pull yourself together.

“He probably doesn’t even remember me. It’s been years, right? And it was just a fleeting night…”

Lost in my spiraling thoughts, I jumped when his voice cut through the silence.

“All done outside.”

“Oh! Thanks!” I blurted, my voice too high.

The storage room, already cramped, suddenly felt suffocating with him standing there.

I instinctively took a small step back, only to bump into a shelf. A few things toppled over. Before I could react, he bent down and scooped it up.

“Here, you dropped this.”

In his hand was a black bra with delicate bunny–ear straps, the thin fabric dangling from his fingertips.

The color matched his T–shirt in a way that felt almost fated.

My mind flashed back to that night–I’d been wearing something just like it…

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Heat flooded my face, and his gaze darkened, those piercing eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my knees weak.

Then he leaned in, close enough that I could feel his breath brush against my skin.

“You seem nervous around me,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing. “Why’s that?”

My brain short–circuited, and before I could stop myself, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “Lona said you hit women!”

His eyes widened slightly, but before he could react, I darted past him like my life depended on it.

Lona, catching the tail end of my outburst, stormed over.

“Hit women? Who’s the jerk that’s hitting women?”

Tristan’s face darkened, his jaw tight.

“Keep talking, Lona, and you might just find out.”

Because of Tristan, the work was done far faster than usual.

What normally took until seven or eight was finished by four.

Lona, not wanting to overstay, tugged at Tristan’s arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

But Tristan didn’t budge. He leaned back casually, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“What, Ms. Prescott’s too stingy to treat us to dinner?”

My cheeks warmed at his teasing tone. “Of course I’ll treat! What do you guys feel like eating?”

Lona’s jaw dropped.

“Tristan! Seriously? You’ve got some nerve making my friend foot the bill. That’s low, even for

you.”

“Relax,” he said, unfazed. “Pick a place. I’m paying.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Lona grinned, satisfied.

She hooked her arm through mine, leaning in to whisper, “Trist’s got deep pockets. He’s rarely this generous, so think hard about what you want. Don’t hold back!”

By some twist of fate–or maybe Tristan’s deliberate choice–the restaurant we ended up at was right next to the bar where we’d first met all those years ago.

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Neither Tristan nor I were big talkers, but thankfully, Lona’s chatter filled the silence, keeping the awkwardness at bay.

Still, I could feel his gaze on me throughout the meal–hot, unrelenting, like a spotlight I couldn’t

escape.

My phone buzzed suddenly, breaking the tension.

Lona leaned over, peering at the screen. “Is that Lucy? God, I haven’t seen her in forever. I miss that little angel!”

Tristan’s expression shifted, a strange mix of curiosity and something else I couldn’t place.

I excused myself and stepped outside to take the call.

As I walked away, I heard his low voice asking Lona, “She’s… married?”

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