Chapter 11
“Mr. Sinclair, we found her. Miss Winters was treated at Mercy General Hospital.”
Lucas immediately got in his car and sped across town.
In the rearview mirror, sunset turned the river blood–red, just like the unshed tears in Aria’s eyes the last time she’d looked at him.
Lucas burst through the hospital doors, his face dark as a storm cloud. When he found her, he was going to…
“Aria…” The nurse typed at her computer. “That young woman was discharged this morning.”
“When?” Lucas’s voice was razor–sharp.
‘About… two hours ago?” The nurse stepped back nervously.
Lucas clenched his fists, knuckles white.
He spun around and marched to the security office, demanding to see this morning’s surveillance footage.
Frame by frame, the recordings played until finally, a familiar figure appeared in the hallway.
he wore a simple white t–shirt and jeans, her long hair loosely tied back. Her face was pale but carried an infamiliar serenity.
the never once looked back.
ucas’s breath caught.
hat was Aria, but also not Aria.
The Aria he remembered always looked at him with restrained tenderness. But now, her eyes held nothing at all.
fad she really forgotten him?
le closed his eyes, unfamiliar emotions churning in his chest.
he was just… gone.
No goodbye, no explanation.
He suddenly remembered their last encounter–her standing on that auction platform, saying with empty eyes: “Yes,
Mr. Sinclair.”
He’d thought she’d never leave him then.
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My Husband’s Guide to Losing a Perfectly Good Wife in Five Easy Steps
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Chapter 11
But now she really had left.
And this time, he didn’t even know where to look for her.
In his office, rain streaked the windows like tears.
Lucas stared at quarterly reports without reading a word, his fingers drumming restlessly on the desk.
“Mr. Sinclair, your coffee.” His new secretary carefully placed the cup on his desk.
Lucas took a sip and immediately frowned. “Too sweet.”
‘But Miss Cross said to add extra sugar to all your coffee now…”
‘Make it black,” he snapped irritably. “No sugar.”
The secretary nodded and scurried out.
Lucas rubbed his temples, his gaze falling on the empty corner of his desk where a perfectly temperature cup of coffee used to sit, always with a sticky note underneath listing the day’s schedule.
Like Aria herself–quiet, considerate, perfect.
He stood abruptly, knocking over the coffee cup. Brown liquid spread across his papers, but he didn’t care.
His phone buzzed with Madison’s name on the screen.
Lucas stared at those letters for a long time until the ringing stopped.
The lockscreen showed last week’s photo–Madison clinging to his arm with a bright smile.
She’d set it as his wallpaper, saying this way he’d think of her every time he checked his phone.
But why did he feel like something was missing from the picture?
‘Mr. Sinclair, your coffee.” The secretary knocked again nervously.
Lucas accepted the cup, bitter liquid sliding down his throat.
This taste was right.
The familiar bitterness spread across his palate, and he suddenly remembered–he’d started drinking black coffee in his second month of working with Aria, five years ago…
“Lucas!” The office door slammed open as Madison click clacked in on high heels, her perfume filling the space. “Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
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My Husband’s Guide to Losing a Perfectly Good Wife in Five Easy Steps
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Chapter 11
Lucas pulled himself back to the present. “I was busy.”
“You still have to eat, even when busy.” Madison pouted, setting a food container on his desk. “I had the kitchen make your favorite sweet and sour pork.”
The container opened, releasing sickeningly sweet aromas that filled the entire office.
Lucas looked at the glistening, sugar–coated meat and felt his stomach clench. He used to enjoy this dish, but now…
“What’s wrong?” Madison had already picked up a piece with chopsticks, bringing it to his lips. “Try it–I supervised the chef myself.”
Lucas reluctantly opened his mouth, but the sweet–sour explosion made him instinctively reach for water, finding only that bitter black coffee.
[oo sweet. Sweet enough to make him nauseous.
‘Don’t you like it?” Madison’s expression immediately crumpled.
‘It’s not that.” Lucas set down his chopsticks. “My tastes have just… changed.”
Changed?” Madison’s voice pitched higher, unleashing accumulated frustration. “Last week you said you didn’t like he ties I bought, Tuesday you complained the apartment decor was too flashy, and now even your food preferences
have changed?”
Her eyes quickly filled with tears, voice accusing. “Lucas, are you taking me for granted now that you have me?”
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