Timothy's gaze was dark and unreadable as he stared at her.

A heartbeat later, he grabbed her hand and led her firmly down the hallway.

They rode the elevator in silence, straight to the top floor.

Jessica let herself be pulled along, passive, until they entered the penthouse suite.

Once inside, Timothy pressed her gently down onto the sofa. He crouched in front of her, eyes intense. "Why haven't you been answering your phone?"

His voice was low and a little rough around the edges.

Jessica looked down at him—a man in a perfectly tailored suit, always so composed and charismatic, effortlessly charming. Once, she'd found that impossible to resist.

Now, she had no desire left to love him.

She raised her hand, voice flat. "Didn't feel like it."

An unmistakable shadow of annoyance flickered in Timothy's dark eyes.

"You never used to act like this."

through the air. "Like you

you're really set on

smooth baritone had a hard

not making a scene," she answered

running his hands through his hair in frustration. He paced the luxurious carpet, then

he said, jaw tight. "Seven years of marriage—we've always been

hesitated. From inside his jacket, Timothy pulled out a velvet box, flipped it open, and

my flight was delayed. When I finally got

perfect wife-gracious, considerate. Surely, she wouldn't

for you. That's on me. But

His voice was

Jessica just gave him a

brooches for Sheila-twenty-three of them in total. Today, Sheila wore one; the rest, no doubt,

was offering Jessica one

over.

what she was worth to him? Only what was left over after he'd given the best to

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