I was having dinner with William, going over notes for an upcoming military press briefing, when Roman Armstrong suddenly loomed in the restaurant doorway.

It had been three months. His face was a shadow of itself, covered in coarse, neglected stubble that made him look like a man who’d spent his nights drowning in scotch rather than sleep.

His eyes locked onto me—wild, bloodshot, and frantic.

"Genevieve! I finally found you!"

He lunged, arms wide, intent on a reunion I never asked for. William didn't flinch, planting himself firmly between us like an immovable wall of granite.

Roman froze, his expression curdling into pure, unadulterated rage.

"Move."

William offered a dry, thin smile. "Sir, I suggest you compose yourself. Personal boundaries are a thing, even for men of your stature. Keep your hands to yourself."

Roman’s jaw set hard, his neck veins pulsing. "I’m trying to embrace my wife! What business is it of yours?"

William’s correction was swift and cold. "Ex-wife."

Seeing Roman again felt like an old, festering wound being torn open—not with the ache of longing, but with the sharp, acidic sting of revulsion.

"Genevieve, listen to me," Roman pleaded, his voice cracking. "I didn’t know those papers were divorce filings at the time! If I’d known, I never would have signed them! They don't count!"

William let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Right. You were a little too busy coddling your wounded little favorite to pay attention to legal documents, weren't you?"

Roman choked on his own anger, his glare shifting toward William with enough heat to melt steel.

"Genevieve, please," Roman said, ignoring William and focusing back on me. "We’ve known each other for twenty years. That’s two decades of history! Can you really just throw it all away?"

He stood there, raw and pathetic, his eyes glistening with a desperate, performative sorrow. The old me—the girl from six months ago—would have caved. She would have been at his side in a heartbeat, soothing his brow.

Now? I just felt nauseous.

William didn't let up. "You certainly didn't think twice back then. You had plenty of headspace for your little protégé, but not a single thought to spare for Genevieve."

"Enough!" Roman roared, finally losing his grip on his professional composure. "Chief Engineer Graham, my business with my wife is none of your concern! Don't you have some blueprints to rot over? Or is harassing your peers now part of your official duties?"

Roman narrowed his eyes, searching for a weak point in William’s calm demeanor.

"Your intentions are showing, Graham. And they’re transparent as hell."

William shrugged, his smile not wavering for a second. "You’re absolutely right about that. I’m trying to win her heart."