Chapter 3

Paisley felt the firm grip on her wrist tighten suddenly, and the pain made her gasp in surprise.

"Paisley, who is he?" Dominick's voice was sharp, his gaze burning into her. "The one who called you just now-was it him?"

The tension in the room thickened as Dominick's eyes drilled into hers, a flicker of something dark in his expression.

He remembered the way she had called the person on the phone "darling" earlier a term of endearment she had never once used for him during their four years of marriage.

The air between them crackled with tension, and Paisley quickly gathered herself, her voice a low murmur of defiance. "None of your business." She pulled her wrist from his grasp with all the strength she could muster.

Dominick frowned, about to take a step closer, his lips parted as if to speak, but before he could say anything, he was interrupted by a voice from behind.

"Dom, so this is where you've been." Marissa's voice was sweet and light, laced with an almost too-casual warmth.

She appeared at Dominick's side, clad in a gorgeous, tailored outfit that seemed to glow with sophistication. Her long hair cascaded behind her, swaying as she moved with an easy grace.

"My mother was so happy to see you earlier," she continued, her tone playful. "She was actually a bit upset, saying I don't take enough care of you, having you come to the hospital when you're always so busy."

Marissa's laughter was soft and full of charm as she stepped closer to Dominick. "Honestly, I'm the one who's been wronged. You came here on your own, so next time, you explain it to Mom, alright?" Only then did Marissa seem to notice Paisley standing there. Her gaze shifted with a swift, almost rehearsed smile. "Ms. Sutton? You're back?"

Her smile was polished and brilliant, radiating warmth. If Paisley hadn't caught the subtle way Marissa had been eyeing her-studying her from the moment she came into Marissa's view-she might've believed Marissa's friendliness was genuine.

At that moment, Paisley couldn't help but feel a wave of utter boredom wash over her.

There was no point in her staying and listening to more of Marissa's well-rehearsed act. Without a word, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking sharply against the ground as she headed for the car door. She quickly got into the car and left the scene.

*****

Later, in the living room, the air was heavy with unspoken thoughts. Emery handed Paisley a warm cup of milk, the steam rising gently from the surface. "So, you still haven't cleared things up with him?"

Emery was a good friend Paisley had met in Brightmoor, a renowned designer of evening gowns. She had come to Harrowfell with Paisley, setting up her custom boutique in the town's poshest mall. She was known for her sharp eye for detail and even sharper opinions.

warmth settle in her chest. "No. I didn't explain anything." Emery's reaction was far more

her lips. "We're

a touch of dry humor, "Besides, he's about to remarry." "Remarry?" Emery's eyes went wide

was Emery's usual nickname for Marissa. Paisley used to correct her

Yet, deep down, Paisley knew she couldn't

apart.

Paisley continued sipping her milk quietly, as if the conversation didn't concern her. Emery shook her head in disbelief, her

"You're mistaken. According to those

as she thought of herself from Marissa's point of view. In her eyes, Paisley was the venomous second lead-returning after disappearing for four

who, after vanishing, suddenly reappeared to insert herself back into Dominick's life, trying to repair

come back to disrupt the perfect life the hero and heroine were

always ended the same-the hero would realize his fiancée was his true

that part. She didn't want to rekindle anything with

long past its expiration

as she thought of something else, "did you see

made Paisley's calm demeanor waver just slightly. Grayson, her little boy-whom she hadn't seen in four years-was a constant ache in her

she left four years ago, Grayson was only three. Now he was seven. She couldn't

dwell on it for too long, a soft, childish voice broke

heart instantly softened. It was Serena Sutton, her youngest, still wet from

with droplets of water, her big doe

"Why didn't you dry your hair before coming out? What if you catch a cold?" she scolded gently, her hands already reaching for the towel

chuckled softly, "Rena heard your voice and just couldn't wait. She missed you so much and ran right out to see you, no matter what." Paisley couldn't help but smile at the

too well. Just like

I was really good today. Can I not go to kindergarten tomorrow?" The hopeful gleam

hair, and as much as she wanted to give in to

her little face. "Okay..." she murmured, her shoulders slumping just a

she carried the surname Sutton. Just as Paisley had nicknamed her son "Sonny" all those years ago, she had given her daughter a name that started with

Serena to Dominick. Paisley didn't think it was

up old feelings and drag her into a tangled mess she no longer wanted to be a part of. She had severed that connection long ago, and she intended to keep

*****

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