I stood in front of the Lockhorst Corporation building, my heart hammering against my ribs as I watched the scene unfold before me.
The elevator doors slid open, and there he was—Calyx.
He stepped out, his stride purposeful but weighed down by exhaustion. Dressed in a tailored three-piece suit, he looked as impeccable as ever—sharp lines, effortless grace, a man who commanded attention without trying. But something was off. His posture was stiff, and his shoulders carried a tension that wasn't there before.
I noticed the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowing as if he was trying to fight off a headache. He exhaled sharply before lowering his hand, his fingers brushing against his temple in frustration.
Even from a distance, I could see the exhaustion etched into his face.
He wasn't sleeping well.
For some reason, that realization unsettled me. Did he lie awake at night the same way I did? Did the weight of our choices, our past, press down on him like it did on me?
Or was I just fooling myself into thinking I still mattered enough to haunt him?
Calyx reached the waiting car, and a security guard opened the door for him. He hesitated for the briefest moment—or maybe I imagined it—before ducking inside. The door shut with a decisive thud, sealing him away from me.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.
Was I really ready for this?
I wasn't sure. But I had no other choice.
I felt like a stalker as I drove, keeping a steady distance behind Calyx's car.
The dark-tinted windows made it impossible to see him inside, but I knew he was there—probably leaning back against the seat, eyes closed, still massaging his temple like he had back at the building.
I wasn't the only one following.
Several other cars tailed behind him, moving in perfect coordination. His security detail. Unlike me, they had a purpose—to protect him. To ensure no threat got too close.
Yet, despite my presence, none of them reacted.
They didn't try to shake me off, didn't block my path. They knew I was here.
It was almost unsettling, the way they allowed me to remain in their formation. It could only mean one thing—they had been informed.
Sebastian must have told them that an additional escort would be following. That I would be following.
Somehow, that realization made my grip on the steering wheel tighten.
Was that all I had been reduced to? A mere escort now?
I exhaled sharply, shaking the thought away.
Focus.
I wasn't here for myself. I was here to make sure Shadestone didn't make a move on him.
Even if he wasn't mine to protect anymore.
-
As I followed Calyx's car through the city, a strange feeling crept over me.
Something was off.
They weren't taking the usual route home.
My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I watched the convoy ahead. The roads they turned onto weren't the ones leading to our house. They were moving in a completely different direction—one I wasn't familiar with.
I quickly reached for my phone, keeping one hand on the wheel as I typed out a message to Kaiser.
Me: Is Calyx still living in our house?
The moment I hit send, unease settled deep in my stomach.
If he wasn't heading home, then where was he going?
A few moments passed before my phone buzzed with a reply. I glanced down briefly, and the moment I read the message, a sharp pang of disappointment struck me.
Kaiser: No. He moved out.
I stared at the words, my fingers tightening around my phone.
He moved out.
I blinked, swallowing the lump in my throat. Of course he did.
After everything, why would he still stay in that house? In our house?
It shouldn't have stung. But it did.
I exhaled through my nose and forced my focus back on the road, watching as his car continued down the unfamiliar path.
Where was he living now?
And more importantly—why didn't he tell me?
I shook my head at my own thoughts. Why would he?
We weren't the same anymore. The fragile thread of our marriage had already been torn apart. He had every right to leave.
Still, the realization left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel, debating whether I should keep following him. Was there a point to this?
But then, an unsettling thought crossed my mind.
What if he didn't just move out for a fresh start? What if he moved out because he felt unsafe? Because of Shadestone?
The moment that thought took root, my hesitation vanished.
Whatever the reason, I needed to find out.
And I wasn't turning back now.
-
Calyx's car rolled to a stop in front of a modest bungalow, a stark contrast to the grand house we used to share. Smaller. Quieter. More isolated.
I parked two blocks away, careful to keep my distance. The street was dimly lit, the faint hum of the city lingering in the air, but here—it was quiet. Almost eerily so.
I watched as Calyx stepped out of the car. He moved with his usual composed demeanor, but there was something different this time. Something off. He ignored his security detail completely, walking straight to the front door without so much as a glance in their direction.
No hesitation. No acknowledgment.
They didn't follow him inside, didn't even attempt to stop him. They just stood there, silent and watchful, as if they already knew he wouldn't listen.
It was clear he didn't want to be protected.
I hesitated for only a moment before stepping out of my own car. The night air was crisp, but the heaviness in my chest had nothing to do with the cold.
As I approached, the security team noticed me immediately. They were trained for this, after all. But none of them moved to stop me.
Only one of them, a man standing near the front gate, gave me a subtle nod—a quiet acknowledgment of my presence.
They knew who I was.
They knew I had no intention of harming him.
And yet, wasn't that exactly what I had done?
I forced the thought away and kept moving, stepping past the gate and onto the stone path leading to the house.
Then, the lights flickered on.
A warm glow illuminated the inside, revealing glimpses of a space I had never seen before.
A moment later, music filled the air. A soft melody—classical, slow, melancholic. The kind of music that seeped into your soul, the kind that lingered in empty rooms long after the sound had faded.
I didn't go to the front door.
Instead, I followed the narrow path along the side of the house, my footsteps barely making a sound on the pavement.
I found the bedroom at the far end, and through the slightly parted curtains, I saw him.
Calyx.
He had just entered the room, his suit jacket now slung over the chair. He loosened his tie with slow, deliberate movements, exhaustion written in every line of his posture.
He looked… tired.
Not just physically—but something deeper. Like a man carrying the weight of too many unspoken things.
I should have left.
I should have turned around, walked away, and respected the distance he clearly wanted.
But I didn't.
Instead, I stayed, standing in the shadows, watching the man I once called my husband—the man who had just left me behind.
And for the first time in a long time, I wondered if he was just as lost as I was.