After Leaving My Ex-husband, I Married a Billionaire CEO

Five years of marriage. Every anniversary, my professor husband gave me the same gift without fail: a wildflower plucked from the side of the road.

I'd always consoled myself. Most men in STEM weren't exactly romantics. The fact that he bothered with a flower at all was probably the most romance he had in him.

But that afternoon, while I was at the nicest mall in the city picking out his anniversary gift, I spotted him buying Crystal Gomez a designer bag.

Karl Delgado, the man who was perpetually stiff and restrained around me, was gently tousling her hair, murmuring that he was happy she was finally free of her marriage.

I found Crystal's Instagram later. That was when I discovered they'd always been something more than friends but never quite lovers.

Karl had given her a birthday present every single year for thirty years. Not once had he repeated a gift.

So it wasn't that he didn't know how to be romantic.

He'd simply poured every ounce of his tenderness, his patience, his thoughtfulness into someone else.

A marriage without love had no reason to continue.

I replied to the email from the Canadian company that had reached out to me three days ago：

“I accept. I can start in ten days.”

1

Karl came home just as I finished sorting through the divorce papers.

He reeked of alcohol, but instead of his usual detachment, he pulled me into a tight embrace.

I pushed him away. He actually looked hurt：

“Susannah Henson, the dinner ran late. I really couldn't get out of it. I brought you that strawberry cake you like. Don't be mad, okay?”

The perfume clinging to his clothes was so thick that even the liquor couldn't mask it.

I smiled bitterly, the corners of my mouth barely twitching.

“Since when do you buy cake?”

I'd asked him once, early on, if we could celebrate our anniversary with a small cake along with the flower.

He'd frowned, annoyed：

“I'm a grown man. How would I know what kind of cake you like? If you want one, go buy it yourself.”

I never brought up cake again after that.

Turns out he'd always known what I liked.

He just never wanted to buy it for me.

Today's cake was nothing more than a way to shut me up so I wouldn't ask where he'd really been.

After all, Karl's so-called work dinner had been a meal with Crystal.

What I'd been desperate for over five long years was something she got without even trying.

Something sharp twisted behind my ribs, and a slow, fine-grained ache spread outward from the wound.

“What's with the attitude, Susannah?”

“I bought the cake, just like you asked. What more do you want?”

“Why are you so impossible to please?”

Karl's brow furrowed in irritation, as though I were the one being unreasonable.

Before today, I probably would have taken his accusations to heart, turned them inward, questioned myself.

Told myself he was already making an effort. That I should be grateful.

But now, all I could think about was that designer bag, that perfectly wrapped bouquet of roses, and my throat closed up so tight I could barely breathe.

That was when Karl's phone rang.

“Mr. Delgado? This is the front desk at your apartment complex. A Ms. Gomez passed out by the entrance. She's had too much to drink. You're listed as her emergency contact. Could you come down?”

I watched Karl spring to his feet. He even picked up the strawberry cake he'd just brought home.

“Yes, that's me! Please keep an eye on her and make sure she stays warm. I'm on my way!”

Only then, as if he'd just remembered I existed, did he toss out a hasty explanation：

“Crystal just went through her divorce. She's not in a good place. I'm the only person she knows in the city. I can't just leave her alone.”

“You didn't want the cake anyway. I'm taking it with me.”

He was moving so fast.

I couldn't stop myself. My hand shot out and caught his sleeve.

“Karl, today is our wedding anniversary.”

His stride faltered for half a second. Then, finger by finger, he peeled my hand away.

“Susannah, Crystal and I grew up together. She's like a sister to me.”

“Stop being so childish.”

“We can celebrate our anniversary any time. But if something happens to Crystal tonight, I'll never forgive myself.”

He'd arrived in a rush, and he left in one too.

Within seconds, I was alone again.

I stared at the closed door, teeth sunk into my lower lip so hard the pain blurred with the ache in my chest, every breath burning.

A week ago, I'd had too much to drink at a work dinner. I could barely stand. I collapsed on the sidewalk halfway home.

A stranger used my phone to call Karl. It took seven calls before he picked up.

When he heard what happened, his voice was flat：

“I'm in the middle of a research paper. I don't have time.”

“She just had too much to drink. Let her sleep it off.”