Part 1Never Fading Love

Three years after I left Rick Hayes, I moved back into his house.

He was still single.

Shamelessly, I slept in his bed, used his credit card, and slept with him. It only took a month for everyone to assume we were getting back together. I even managed to drive out the secretary who had been by his side for a decade.

The day she got married, a completely drunk Rick finally seemed to surrender.

“Fine,” he slurred, a note of helpless resignation in his voice. “I’ll remarry you.”

But the next morning, I wasn’t there.

Waiting for him on the steps of City Hall was my three-year-old daughter.

* * *

When Rick and I divorced, it was ugly.

I was convinced something was going on between him and his secretary. He insisted I was being irrational.

“For God’s sake, Lara, can you just let it go? It was a cup of hot water. When are you going to drop it?” Rick, who hadn’t spoken to me in over a week, finally broke his silence, rubbing his exhausted temples.

A cup of hot water.

It was the incident that made me the laughingstock of our entire social circle. No one could understand why I’d thrown such a massive fit over Rick simply pouring his secretary a cup of hot water.

I’ll admit, there were times I wondered if I had overreacted. But every time I replayed that moment in my mind, the same bitter sense of betrayal washed over me.

We had both been caught in a downpour—me and Anna, the secretary who had been with him for years. The second we got into the car, before I had even closed my door, I saw Rick grab a thermos from the console and hand it to her. It was so natural, so effortless.

She took it without a second thought, cradling it in her hands and taking a few careful sips.

In that instant, my own hands were so cold they trembled. My heart felt like it had been encased in ice. This was the same man who wouldn’t even bother to pick up a knocked-over trash can at home, yet here he was, attending to another woman with such quiet, intimate care.

I lost my temper immediately.

Rick didn’t see the big deal. “Anna’s on her period today,” he said dismissively. “You’re not.”

And with those words, I filed for divorce.

The proceedings dragged on for nearly six months. We fought at home, we fought at his parents’ house, we fought at his office. It became a public spectacle, and eventually, the gossip started to tarnish his secretary’s reputation.

Only then did Rick finally agree to sign the papers.

The day it was finalized, we stood glaring at each other, clutching our divorce decrees, and swore we would stay out of each other’s lives forever.

But three years later, I showed up on his doorstep with a suitcase in my hand.

And he let me in.