Evelyn walked stiffly down the carpeted hallway.

Her eyes locked on the heavy mahogany double doors at the far end. The laughter grew louder.

Chadwick's executive assistant, Landon Pierce, spotted her from his desk. His face went completely pale.

Landon leaped up, knocking his pen off the desk.

"Mrs. Christensen, wait-" Landon stammered, stepping out to physically block her path.

Evelyn shot Landon a glare so icy it froze the young assistant in his tracks. He swallowed hard and lowered his arms.

She bypassed him effortlessly. She reached out, gripped the brass handle, and pushed the heavy mahogany door wide open without knocking.

The scene inside the sprawling office hit Evelyn like a physical blow to the stomach.

Chadwick was kneeling on the imported Persian rug right next to the custom Italian leather sofa.

Gigi was perched on the edge of the sofa. She looked fragile, her knees pressed together, holding a matcha latte in both hands.

Chadwick was gently, almost obsessively, applying an ice pack to a microscopic scratch on Gigi's ankle.

Gigi looked up. She saw Evelyn. A calculated, triumphant smirk flashed across her face for a fraction of a second before vanishing.

Evelyn's feet remained glued to the floor. Her hand still gripped the brass door handle. Her knuckles were white.

Chadwick finally registered the draft from the open door. He snapped his head up. His expression instantly darkened into a scowl.

He stood up, dropping the ice pack onto the glass coffee table with a loud thud.

"Why do you lack the basic manners to knock?" Chadwick demanded harshly, glaring at Evelyn.

Evelyn's throat tightened painfully. She gestured to the room with a trembling hand.

"Is this the critical board meeting?" she asked.

Chadwick didn't flinch. He smoothly adjusted his silk tie.

"Gigi had a severe PTSD panic attack in the lobby," he stated flatly.

Gigi immediately shrank back into the cushions of the sofa. She pulled her knees up, playing the role of the terrified, traumatized victim perfectly. She let out a soft, pathetic whimper.

Chadwick stepped between Evelyn and Gigi. He physically shielded his ex-girlfriend from his own wife.

Evelyn looked at Chadwick's defensive posture. She felt completely, utterly marginalized in her own marriage.

She realized the tender, patient man who had been kneeling on the floor was a stranger she had never met.

A wave of extreme physical nausea hit Evelyn. The pregnancy hormones and the raw heartbreak collided in her gut. The room spun.

Her grip weakened. Her heavy Birkin bag slipped from her fingers. It crashed onto the hardwood floor, spilling her lipstick and keys.

The loud noise made Gigi jump.

Chadwick instantly snapped at Evelyn. "Stop being hysterical."

He pointed toward the door. "Go home. Stop embarrassing yourself in my place of business."

Evelyn stared into his dead, furious eyes. Her idealized love for him fractured into a million unrecoverable pieces.

She didn't argue. She didn't scream.

She slowly bent down and picked up her bag. She shoved the items back inside.

She turned her back on her husband and the woman he was protecting.

Evelyn walked out of the office. Her spine was rigid. She refused to let them see her cry.

The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind her, sealing Chadwick and Gigi inside.

Evelyn stood in the empty elevator lobby. The nausea rose so violently she had to cover her mouth with both hands.