The Day I Quit Him (Autumn and Mars) novel Chapter 121

**Chasing Light, Finding Peace** – by Rohan Verma

Mrs. Turner’s sharp gaze flicked between Autumn Lopez and Hannah King, the designer who had just made her entrance into the room. The air was thick with an electrifying tension, almost tangible, as if the very atmosphere crackled with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Mrs. Turner, ever the perceptive housekeeper, sensed the intricate dynamics at play and pondered how best to navigate this delicate encounter.

“Autumn, do you know Miss King?” she inquired, her voice laced with genuine curiosity, hoping to ease the palpable unease that hung between the two women.

Autumn’s eyes met Hannah’s, and a torrent of emotions surged within her—nostalgia intertwined with irritation. “Yes, I do. We were classmates in college,” she replied, her voice steady yet tinged with an undercurrent of tension as memories of their complicated past flooded her mind.

Indeed, they had shared the same hallways, attended the same lectures, and yet their connection had been anything but straightforward. A fierce rivalry had blossomed, fueled by their mutual infatuation with Mars Wright, the charismatic figure who had unknowingly driven a wedge between them.

A vivid memory surged to the forefront of Autumn’s mind—the day of freshman orientation when Hannah had collapsed from heatstroke. Mars had rushed to her side, effortlessly lifting her into his strong arms and carrying her to the infirmary while she drifted in and out of consciousness. From that moment on, Hannah had pursued him with an almost obsessive fervor, while Autumn had watched from the sidelines, her heart heavy with unfulfilled dreams and longing.

After graduation, Autumn had clung to hope as she and Mars embarked on a business venture together—a partnership that had initially filled her with optimism. However, that hope had quickly dissipated when she realized that Mars harbored no romantic feelings for her. Hannah, after enduring a long and fruitless chase, had eventually left for abroad, and Autumn had never expected their paths to cross again, especially not in this unexpected professional setting.

“When did you become Autumn? I thought you married Mars Wright. Did you two have a quiet divorce or something?” Hannah’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp and laden with accusation, echoing the unresolved rivalry that loomed between them.

Autumn felt her expression darken, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. She hadn’t anticipated encountering someone from her past, particularly one who seemed to know every intimate detail about her life with Mars. The thought of Hannah discovering her new life with Owen Bennett twisted her stomach into knots. Would her carefully guarded secrets be exposed before this woman who had once been her rival?

“That’s my private life. I don’t see how it concerns you,” Autumn replied, her voice steady yet tinged with defiance, as she attempted to shield her new life from Hannah’s relentless probing.

Hannah, however, was all too familiar with Autumn’s demeanor. She let out a dismissive huff, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “It’s not my business,” she retorted, but the undertone of jealousy was unmistakable. “But you’re luckier than I thought. Marrying Owen Bennett on your second go? Is that for real?”

Hannah’s gaze was filled with a mix of envy and disbelief. Owen Bennett’s stature far surpassed that of Mars Wright, and Autumn’s good fortune only served to infuriate Hannah further. How could someone like Autumn, who had once had Mars as her protector, now find herself entangled with a man as powerful as Owen?

Is it true what they say? The richer and more powerful a man is, the worse his taste in women? Why do all the successful men seem to gravitate towards Autumn Lopez?

The animosity between the two women was thick enough to slice through. Had their paths not crossed at Owen’s villa, Autumn would have likely chosen to ignore Hannah altogether. But time was of the essence, and she had no intention of engaging in Hannah’s skepticism any longer. “Don’t wait for me for lunch,” she said curtly, turning sharply on her heel to leave.

Mrs. Turner, ever the vigilant housekeeper, accompanied Autumn to the door, her presence a silent shield against the brewing storm. Yet, as she glanced back, she noticed that Hannah had followed them, unwilling to let the matter rest.

“Miss King, our lady of the house has already departed. You and your team should make your way back as well,” Mrs. Turner stated firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Mrs. Turner was perceptive; she had sensed the tension between the two women and had no desire to delve deeper into their complicated history.

“I never heard that Mr. Bennett got married. When did this happen?” Hannah pressed, her curiosity piqued, unwilling to let the conversation slip away.

But Mrs. Turner was not in the mood for further discussion. Hannah’s past was a tangled web of unsavory business, and she had severed ties with her hometown to escape the gossip and ridicule that had followed her. Her intention had been to stabilize her career before gradually reconnecting with her old life, but she hadn’t anticipated bumping into Autumn so soon after starting her new job.

And now, it seemed, she had even swapped husbands.

So much had transpired while she had been away. If Autumn was now Mrs. Owen Bennett, did that mean Mars was once again available? The thought of the man she had once loved so deeply sent a jolt of excitement through her, momentarily overshadowing her jealousy of Autumn.

Unrequited love is a burden that lingers long after the heart has moved on. Although Hannah had dated numerous men abroad, none had captured her heart as Mars had. The possibility of rekindling that old flame ignited a spark of hope within her, even as bitterness simmered just beneath the surface.

“That is our Mr. Bennett’s private business. Miss King, please remember your place,” Mrs. Turner interjected coolly, her voice cutting through Hannah’s daydreams.

Hannah’s expression shifted, a flush of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. She realized that Mrs. Turner was not just any housekeeper; she was Owen Bennett’s right hand. Pushing her luck would be unwise.

“Then we’ll head back for today and return another time,” she conceded, though irritation simmered beneath her surface.

Mrs. Turner paused, contemplating her next words. “Mr. Bennett has specifically hired the owner of your studio to design a wardrobe for his wife. Today’s measurements are just a part of the process, but for the next appointment, please ensure your boss clears his schedule,” she instructed, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.

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