Just before eleven, the front door clicked open with a soft keypad beep.
Vernon stepped in, flicked on the hall light—and found Khloe on the couch.
He crossed over and leaned down for a hug. "Babe, sitting in the dark? Were you waiting up for me?"
Khloe went rigid. A wave of disgust hit her stomach.
Just hours ago, those arms had held another woman—that same body had been pressed against someone else. Yet here he was, acting like nothing was wrong.
Without hesitation, she pushed him away.
Caught off guard, he stumbled back. His face darkened. "What's gotten into you?"
Khloe remained silent. Instead, she rose from the couch and headed directly upstairs.
Vernon frowned and went after her. By the time he reached the bedroom entrance, she emerged, suitcase in tow.
Once he saw the luggage, he figured she was throwing a fit over the missed anniversary.
He held back his annoyance and spoke in a gentle voice. "Fine, I messed up. But work was insane today—you know I'm doing all this for us. Once things calm down, I'll take you somewhere, just the two of us. Okay?"
Khloe watched his pathetic act and couldn't bear to waste another breath on him.
She took out her phone and opened the file she had downloaded from Meridian Hospital's system. Then, she thrust the screen in front of him.
The patient's details and diagnosis appeared clearly on the screen. Ruby Bailey, twenty-two years old, with an acute corpus luteum rupture.
As soon as Vernon read it, his eyes opened wide.
He jerked his head up and glared at Khloe in furious disbelief. He had never imagined that her connections could reach far enough to access records from another hospital.
"You've been spying on me?" he shot back, frowning.
Guilt didn't cross his mind—only rage that she'd pried into his business.
Khloe took her phone away and watched him struggle to speak through his anger. At that moment, she found his behavior completely pathetic.
She saw no reason to tell him that she had served as the lead surgeon for Ruby's operation.
Vernon took her silence as proof that his suspicion was right.
Within seconds, his anger took control and pushed aside all reason.
His face twisted into a bitter smirk. "Well, well, Khloe. Didn't think you had it in you. But so what? You burned every bridge with your family to be with me. You've got no one—nowhere to go. Walk out that door, where exactly do you think you're gonna end up?"
Khloe met his gaze without any emotion. In that moment, the love she had given him for three years felt worthless and ridiculous.
Strong relief suddenly rushed through her. Thank goodness she had discovered the truth before she became even more trapped in their relationship.
Then, she slapped him across the face, hard.
"Vernon Harrison, everything about you makes me sick," she said calmly.
She offered no further explanation as she pulled her suitcase around him and made her way toward the door.
Vernon pressed a hand against his burning cheek and shouted after her, "Walk out that door, and don't come crawling back to me!"
Khloe never turned around. Instead, she continued walking until the darkness swallowed her from sight.
Under a streetlamp, she stopped and took out her phone again—then blocked his number and all his socials.
After drawing a calm breath, she called a number she had avoided for three whole years.
It rang once—then a familiar voice came through.
Her eyes stung. "I was wrong. Can I come home?"
