I didn’t blink. “Because I pulled the contract.”
He gaped at me. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’m the CEO of SilverMed.”
I handed him divorce papers and informed him he had 30 days to vacate the house—my house.
Three days later, he called the hospital at midnight, begging. “Please, Caitlyn. I didn’t know. I was stupid. I need you.”
I let him talk. Then I said, “Do you remember Alyssa?”
Silence.
“Your 24-year-old intern? You think I didn’t know?”
I hung up. Filed a no-contact order. Moved out. Started again.
Months passed. Brandon spiraled—lost his job, faced debt, got dumped. I healed. The cancer went into remission. I returned to work, my team welcoming me like a hero. I bought a quiet home by the lake, where the mornings were soft and the past finally stopped echoing.
One day, Eric visited. “Ever think about dating again?” he teased.