Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 29

Chapter 27: Haunted By Her Ghost

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+25 Points

I didnt want to admit it, but now that I was alone and not performing for anyone, I could finally say it.

The room felt too big, too empty without her, and although she may not be here, doesn’t mean that her presence wasn’t greatly felt. Every surface in the room held reminders of her-the book on her nightstand.

The framed photo of the three of us from Nick’s second birthday. The small jewelry box where she kept her jewerly, the ones she owned before marrying me.

I’d never bought her expensive jewelry. Never bought her much of anything, really. She never asked for things, never complained about what she didn’t have.

I’d thought that meant she didn’t want anything. Now I wondered if she believed that she wasn’t something permenant.

My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it eagerly, hoping to see Sedona’s name.

Instead, it was an sss from my lawyer about a land acquisition.

I threw the phone onto the nightstand harder than necessary and stared up at the ceiling. Tomorrow, I decided. I’ll be the one to apologize to her and make her come home, no more waiting her out.

Because she had to come home. Where else would she go? What else did she have?

She couldn’t stay with that boytoy of her forever and she was an orphan, she had only me and Nick to come back to.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but all I could see was Sedona’s face at the hospital, as she told me she was done with me.

And for the first time since this whole nightmare had started, felt a flicker of real fear spark in my chest as I tried to suppress it. What if she meant it? What if she was never coming back?

r

The week that followed was the longest week of my life. Every morning, I woke up expecting to find Sedona in the kitchen, making breakfast like nothing had happened.

Every evening, I came home anticipating her car in the driveway, her shoes by the door, some sign that she’d returned to her senses and had decided to come home, but I was disappointed each time.

I’d sent three more messages since that first night. Each one had been read, none had been answered. The lack of response was somehow worse than an argument would have been. At least if she was yelling at me, we’d be communicating. This silence was final, and there was no coming back from this. I had no idea where she would be, if she was still in this city or had left to another country.

Nick asked about her constantly, missing her every day that passed without hearing from her as he became more insistent with his questions.

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Haunted By Her Shost

“When is Mom coming home? Can I call Mom? Does Mom know I miss her?”

t deflected, made excuses, promised she’d be back soon. But my confidence was waning.

Work became my refuge. I threw myself into meetings, into a world where I could control what was happening. But even there, Sedona’s absence followed me.

+25 Points

My assistant brought me lunch one day a sandwich from the deli across the street. I took one bite and immediately knew something was wrong. The bread was wheat instead of white, the mustard was yellow instead of dijon.

“This isn’t right,” I told her. “This isn’t what I order.”

She looked confused. “But this is what’s in your standing order, with the deli. I’ve been ordering the same thing for you for two years.”

Two years. I’d been eating these sandwiches for two years, never noticing they weren’t what I actually wanted because somehow Sedona had figured out what I wanted and kept ordering me a different thing, that I enjoyed. So now that she was gone, my assistant ordered what I had initially placed a long time ago and just realizing that it was a terrible order and didn’t suit my taste buds.

I hadn’t even noticed the change or thanked Sedona for that, had she been disappointed when she realized that I wasn’t appreciative of this.

The realization sat heavy in my stomach, made the sandwich taste like ash.

That evening, there was another charity event-this one was actually for Northwestern Memorial Hospital, ironically. I’d committed to attending months ago, had even purchased a table for ten. Usually, Sedona would have helped me figure out who to invite, would have made sure we had a good mix of clients and colleagues, and she would have handled all the small details that mader sure that everyone was comfortable with their seating arrangement and no incidents would occur.

Without her, I’d completely forgotten about it until my assistant reminded me that morning.

“Should I call Mrs. Hayes and see if she needs help with arrangements?” she’d asked innocently.

“No. She won’t be attending.”

My assistant had looked surprised at my answer but didn’t press. Within an hour, she’d filled the table with business associates and their spouses, had arranged for a car service, had handled everything efficiently.

But it wasn’t the same.

I arrived at the gala alone, feeling very single among the coupled attendees. I’d considered asking Catherine to join me, it would have been practical, to have her nby my side, but Marcus’s words from the last gala stopped me.

Let them talk, part of me thought defiantly. Sedona was the one who’d left me and our child and ran away with a man, possibly cheating on me while I waited like a fucking dog. Sedona was the one who’d abandoned her family. If people wanted to judge my friendship with Catherine, that was their problem, not mine.

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