Vincent didn’t get home until ten that night, dragging his suitcase behind him.
Courtney followed close behind, carrying a cake box like a trophy.
She opened it with a bright, innocent smile. “Roxanne, don’t stay mad. Vincent remembered today’s your birthday. See? He ordered you a cake.”
Roxanne’s eyes fell on the box.
It was cherry mousse—her favorite.
But the once elegant dessert was now a collapsed mess, the sides caved in, the top slanted, almost unrecognizable.
“Oh no! I’m such a klutz!” Courtney gasped, her tone laced with fake concern. She glanced around with wide eyes and added, “It’s too late now—all the bakeries are closed. Roxanne, would you mind making do with this one?”
Roxanne said nothing. She simply stared at Courtney with a cold, unreadable expression.
Vincent rubbed his nose awkwardly. “I’ll get you a new one tomorrow.”
He pulled out a small jewelry box from his pocket.
“Here, I got you something.” Inside was a diamond bracelet. It sparkled beautifully.
“Do you like it?” he asked.
Roxanne didn’t smile. Because the necklace from the same collection—worth ten times more—was glinting proudly around Courtney’s neck.
Oblivious, Vincent started fastening the bracelet around her wrist. “Amethyst breaks too easily. I got you a better one. Diamond.”
He didn’t even glance at her face.
“Oh, since Courtney’s just back in town, she hasn’t found a place yet, so I told her she could stay here for a few days.”
“Actually,” he added, “give her the master bedroom. Her allergies get bad if the room’s not cleaned properly. The guest room won’t work for her.”
Of course. He didn’t even remember Roxanne had asthma.
She yanked her hand back. “I don’t care if you want to give her your spot. I’m not moving from my room.”
Vincent’s expression turned stormy. “You know I can’t sleep in other room.”
“Oh, that sounds like a you problem,” Roxanne said nonchalantly.
He stared at her like she’d grown a second head. “You serious? You’re fine with me and Courtney sharing a room?”
Even though she’d already decided to let him go, those words still stung.
She forced her voice to stay calm. “Do what you want.”
Apparently, that wasn’t the reaction he expected. His jaw tightened in frustration.
Courtney tugged at his sleeve gently, her voice soft and shaky. “It’s okay, Vincent. I can just take the guest room. I’ll be fine.”
“No,” his voice sharp. “You’ll stay with me in the second bedroom.”
Vincent grabbed her hand, shouldered past Roxanne and headed toward the spare room.
As he walked away, he tossed a cold line over his shoulder. “You pushed me to this, Roxanne.”
She stood there, still and quiet, watching him walk away.
She counted.
Twenty steps.
That’s how long it took for Vincent to walk away and slam the bedroom door.
And when he did, something in her finally snapped loose.
There was no more pain. Just disgust.
Later that night, she woke up groggy and thirsty. On her way to the kitchen, she caught voices drifting from the other bedroom.
Courtney’s voice, sharp and whiny: “Why don’t we just send her to Possum Hollow? Let the locals knock the attitude out of her. She’s rude, feeling entitled—I can’t stand her.”
“No,” Vincent shot back without a beat of hesitation.
Courtney sniffled dramatically. “What’s going on with you, Vincent? First, you deleted my post after she commented on it. Then you buy her gifts, a birthday cake. Don’t tell me you’re falling for her?”
Roxanne froze, holding her breath.
“Of course not,” Vincent’s voice came after a pause, low and irritated, “I’m just trying to avoid pushing her too far. If she changes her mind about the engagement, the whole plan goes up in smoke. Your plan.”
Courtney clung to his arm, her tears spilling over. “Does that mean you’re agree to sending her to Possum Hollow after all?”
