Rejected by my Husband novel Chapter 4

I couldn’t sit in that empty house another second. The silence pressed against me like a cage, every tick of the clock mocking the fact that Reid had left me again. For her.

When the driver looked up in surprise as I came down the stairs in a fitted black dress and heels, I didn’t even give him the chance to ask.

“Take me to a club,” I ordered.

“Madam… at this hour?” he hesitated.

“Yes. And wait outside for me. Don’t follow me in,” I said sharply, sliding into the car.

The city lights blurred past the window, neon signs glowing against the dark sky. By the time we pulled up to the club, the music was already pulsing from inside, bass vibrating through the pavement. I stepped out, the night air brushing against my bare shoulders, and walked straight in without looking back.

Inside, it was chaos in the most intoxicating way, flashing lights, bodies pressed together, the smell of alcohol and perfume thick in the air. For the first time that night, I felt alive.

I made my way to the bar, ordering a glass of red wine, when a familiar voice caught me off guard.

“Well, if it isn’t Mrs. CEO,” Adrian drawled smoothly from a stool nearby, his glass of whiskey in hand.

I turned, startled, but quickly composed myself. “Adrian.”

He grinned, his eyes scanning me slowly. “You look… different tonight. Not the elegant hostess from the restaurant. More like a woman who came to forget something.”

I sipped my wine, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I did.”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Let me guess. Reid’s busy again?”

The way he said it, with that mocking edge, made my chest tighten. I gave a small laugh, more bitter than amused. “What else is new?”

Adrian chuckled, taking another sip of whiskey. “And so you came here. Alone. Brave… or dangerous?”

“I told the driver to wait outside,” I said casually, though my heart thudded faster under his gaze.

His lips curved. “So technically not alone. But still lonely.”

His lips curved. “So technically not alone. But still lonely.”

I turned away from him, letting the music pull me. “Maybe I don’t want to talk. Maybe I just want to feel.”

Before I could overthink it, I walked toward the stage where the DJ’s lights flashed and the beat was strongest. A few people were already dancing, but I climbed onto the platform, the spirit and anger giving me courage I didn’t know I had.

From the stage, my eyes caught Adrian’s. He was leaning back at the bar, his gaze locked on me, a slow smile spreading across his face. He lifted his glass in a silent toast.

I laughed, breathless, spinning under the lights, but inside my chest, something twisted. Freedom felt good, but it also burned. Because no matter how high the music lifted me, a part of me still wished Reid had been the one watching.

The club lights spun faster, colors bleeding together as I sat back at the bar. My glass of spirit was nearly empty, the last drops burning as they slid down my throat. I wanted the heat, the numbness, anything to quiet the storm inside me.

But as I set the glass down, the room tilted slightly. My vision blurred, the edges softening in a way that made my stomach twist.

“Another?” Adrian’s voice came smooth beside me, though it sounded far away, as if underwater.

I shook my head, pressing a hand to my temple. “No… I think I’ve had enough.”

He chuckled, low and amused. “Funny, I thought you came here to let go.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out weak. “Not like this…” My words slurred faintly, and I hated how heavy my tongue felt.

Adrian leaned closer, his face much too near. “Then how about a dance instead?”

“You can’t stay like this,” I said quietly. “Come to my house tonight. Rest. We’ll find a solution in the morning.”

She sniffled, lifting her face. “I can’t impose on you and Klara especially not after the shift I just came from. I probably still smell like antiseptic.”

“You’re not imposing,” I cut in firmly. “You’re in trouble. And I help the people I care about. That’s final.”

She gave me a watery smile, murmuring a thank you, brushing at the sleeve of her cardigan where a pen was still clipped, another trace of the hospital she couldn’t leave behind. But my chest tightened. Because even as I said it, all I could think of was Kar waiting for me at home. The look in her eyes when I left her earlier… the anger, the hurt. I clenched my jaw, speeding the car toward my house.

When we finally arrived, I stepped out quickly, scanning the windows. The living room lights were off. The house was too still.

“Kar?” I called softly as I entered, placing Natalie’s bag by the door. My voice echoed through the hall. No answer.

My heartbeat picked up. She always waited for me, no matter how angry she was. Even if she pretended to sleep, I would still find her curled in our bed. But now, the house felt empty, wrong.

I checked the bedroom first, bed neatly made, no sign of her. The kitchen, plates untouched, the lasagna she’d made for me earlier still covered on the counter. My throat tightened at the sight.

“Natalie, stay here,” I ordered, sharper than I intended. She opened her mouth, but I didn’t wait.

I searched every room, calling out her name louder now. “Karline! Where are you?”

Nothing.

A flicker of panic shot through me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and when I pulled it out, I saw a message from the driver.

“Sir, Madam is at the club. She told me to wait outside.”

My blood ran cold.