Chapter 11
Even though the doctor said Wendy could be discharged the next day, Bryant and Daphne weren’t convinced and kept insisting she stay a few more days for observation.
Yves agreed to this, and hence, for five days straight, he stayed by Wendy’s bedside. From expensive imported post–surgery supplements to limited–edition flower arrangements, anything Wendy mentioned, Yves made it happen. Sometimes, he even took care of it himself.
The hospital room was filled with beautifully wrapped gift boxes. Wendy held up her phone and took a picture of herself with the mountain of gifts in the background. “Yves, does this angle look good? Or does it seem a little weird?” she sweetly asked.
Yves absentmindedly nodded, but he read Wendy’s newly posted update. It was a nine–photo collage of the jewelry and bracelets he’d given her. The caption read, “Only the favored can act this bold.”
He noticed Zoey’s name in the list of people who had liked the post. But a second later, her name disappeared.
His fingers trembled slightly.
As he exited the screen, he accidentally opened their chat window. The last message still said, ” I agree to the divorce.”
What exactly did Zoey mean by that?
Wendy had her eyes set on a limited–edition designer bag on the day she was discharged, and Yves agreed to buy it for her as usual. So, the couple went to the mall, and Wendy picked out a soft gray bag.
Yves was about to pay when he remembered that Zoey also liked that brand. On a whim, he told the clerk, “I’ll take two of those.”
The staff member didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. He simply and quietly packed the second bag, placing it in the car’s back seat. All the while, Wendy never noticed this.
After dropping Wendy off and returning home with the bag, Yves realized that no one was home. There was no sign of Zoey either.
His grip on the shopping bag tightened. Then, as if recalling something, he dashed into the bedroom and rummaged through the closet.
All of Zoey’s clothes were gone, and so were her ID and personal documents.
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Zoey hadn’t left on a whim, she had planned it for a while.
Suddenly, a wave of panic swept over him, and he started calling her.
After several attempts, Yves could recite her phone number by heart, but all he heard through the receiver was the same automated message.
“The number you have dialed is not reachable at the moment. Please try again later.”
Yves sank onto the couch. Every message he’d sent only had a single gray check. It made his
vision blur.
All of a sudden, he remembered the gift his bodyguard had mentioned. Then, he shot up and sprinted to the garage.
Inside the trunk, a silver gift box sat quietly in the corner. Taped across the top was a small note in Zoey’s neat handwriting.
“For Yves.”
With shaking hands, Yves unboxed it and found their divorce agreement.
Her name, Zoey Silvain, was signed with strong, firm strokes. Meanwhile, beneath the paper was a small note with her neat handwriting. It read, “Wishing you and Wendy happiness.”
Yves‘ hand tightly curled around the note. His veins bulged, and his nails nearly tore through
the paper too.
Just then, his phone vibrated.
Wendy had sent a message.
“Thanks for buying me the limited edition bag! All my friends are so jealous.” Attached to the message was a photo of her beaming with the bag in hand.
Yves stared at the screen and felt a lump forming in his throat. His mind was filled with thoughts of Zoey,
“How did it come to this? Didn’t she love me?” he muttered to himself in the quiet garage.
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Chapter 12
