After that incident, I learned to cover for Oliver.

This time was no different.

But when he heard my perfectly cooperative response, his expression only darkened.

"I actually wanted to take you to dinner tonight. There's nothing to cover for."

"I already ordered. All your favorites. Think of it as an apology from Alberta."

I glanced at the calendar on my phone.

"Sorry, I really don't have time tonight."

"How much was the table? I'll reimburse you."

Oliver's jaw clenched. "You're serious right now?"

"Fine. You don't want to eat, I'll take Alberta instead."

He didn't hang up. He was waiting for a reaction.

I just nodded.

"That works."

"I have a bottle of wine stored at the restaurant. You two can have that, too."

Oliver hung up with a sharp click.

He was probably embarrassed.

He didn't come home for the rest of the week.

I didn't care. Didn't ask, didn't pry.

I just quietly packed my things and shipped them to the new place I'd secured in Harborview.

Then I went to the studio to hand off my remaining work.

What I didn't expect was the familiar face waiting at the entrance.

Alberta Rodriguez was standing there clutching a parrot, making a scene.

"Aren't you a funeral studio? Aren't you professional embalmers?"

"My Lolo is dead! Why won't you prepare her?!"

Sarah Dickerson, my assistant, was trying her best to explain patiently.

"Miss, this is a studio for human services. We're not trained in pet preparation. You'd be better off finding a specialist for birds—"

Before Sarah could finish, Alberta slapped her across the face.

"A pet? She was my family! She's dead, and you won't help me. What, you think I can't afford it?"

"You people have no respect for life!"

Then the waterworks started. "I just don't understand. Why is the world so cruel to me? The man I love is marrying someone else. My Lolo is gone. All I want is to lay her to rest, and I get humiliated for it! What did I ever do wrong?"

Sarah had been with me since the day she graduated college. She wasn't just an employee. She was like a little sister to me.

Watching her get hit sent a bolt of fury straight through my chest.

I was about to march over and throw Alberta out myself.

But someone beat me to it, pulling Alberta into his arms.

Oliver's face was full of tender concern.

"Don't cry. Hey, don't cry."

"I'll figure something out. Whatever it is, I'll fix it for you."

"If this place upset you, I'll shut it down."

I walked over and moved Sarah behind me.

Then I smiled at Oliver.

"You want to shut my studio down, Mr. Henson? No need for all that trouble. Just wire me fifty million dollars. I'll transfer the business license to you, along with the remaining eight years on the lease and every last table and chair. Then Miss Rodriguez can smash the place to pieces for all I care."

"But."

I let the word hang.

"Before any of that, she apologizes to my employee first."

Oliver looked startled.

He looked at me, then lifted his gaze to the sign above the studio entrance.

"This funeral studio... is yours?"

I lowered my head and let out a quiet laugh.

Yes. It was mine.

Oliver and I had known each other since the day we were born. We'd walked every step of our lives side by side.

After graduation, I'd told him more than once about the work I wanted to do.

My dream. My purpose.

Every step of building that studio, I'd shared with him. The day it opened, I'd invited him to celebrate with me.

But Oliver had been keeping Alberta company through her cramps that day. He'd sent me a congratulatory cash gift and never mentioned it again.

Now the studio had been running for three, almost four years. It had become the most respected mortuary studio in all of Capital City.

Yet Oliver still had no idea I was the one who owned it.

He'd promised Alberta he would protect her career.

But to this day, he didn't even know I had one.

Oliver's expression shifted, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face.

"Regardless of who owns this place, your staff shouldn't be treating customers this way."

"Alberta's just a young girl. She doesn't know any better. Why would you people give her a hard time?"

His gaze settled on me, tinged with suspicion. As if he thought I was using my position to settle a personal grudge, punishing Alberta out of jealousy over her closeness with him.

"Giving her a hard time?"

I let out a quiet laugh. "Your little girl walked into my mortuary studio with a bird and demanded a burial service. My assistant politely explained that we couldn't accommodate her, and got slapped across the face for it. So tell me, who's giving whom a hard time?"

"Mr. Henson, you can protect your sweetheart all you want, but you still have to be reasonable."

"Alberta owes my assistant an apology. Today. Otherwise I'm calling the police, and I'll press charges with the security footage and the injury report."

My tone left no room for negotiation. Not an inch.

Oliver's face darkened.

"What did you just call me? Mr. Henson?"

Alberta tugged at his sleeve, cutting him off.

"Dr. Henson, I'm fine, really."

"I upset your wife at the wedding that day. Whatever she does to get back at me, I deserve it."

Wounded. Pitiful. Every syllable perfectly calibrated.

And Oliver melted on cue, his heart aching for her instantly.

Right there in front of Alberta, he raised his hand.

And slapped me hard across the face.

Oliver's voice was ice.

"So I hit you. What are you going to do about it?"

"Your staff can't even handle basic professional standards. You have no one to blame but yourselves."

"You want to sue? Go ahead. Add me to the lawsuit. Let's see what a judge has to say."

The pain was blinding.

But it woke me up completely.

I decided then that I would never think about that afternoon by the river again. Not ever.

After the confrontation, hit pieces flooded the internet overnight. Fabricated rumors, vicious lies, all of it spiraling out of control.

My studio became untouchable.

The video of Oliver slapping me had been turned into a looping clip, circulating through every corner of Capital City's high society.

Now whenever anyone saw me, their eyes carried the same expression: a pitying half-smile that wasn't really pity at all.

So I shut the studio down. Paid every employee three months' severance.

Then I wired Sarah an extra fifty thousand on top of that.

Tomorrow was the day I left Capital City.

But tonight, Oliver came home.

He stepped through the door and froze.

His eyes swept the room. "Why is the house so... empty?"

"Where's the wedding portrait?"

I didn't look up. "Threw it out. Left the nail in the wall, though. In case you want to hang something else later."

Oliver's voice went stiff.

"That's not what I meant."

"Your face... the mark..."

He moved closer, reaching to tilt my chin up.

I flinched away before he could touch me, widening the distance between us.

"It's nothing. Already healed."

Oliver shifted uncomfortably.

"I lost my temper that day. But you weren't exactly blameless either."

"I've told you a hundred times. Alberta is my student. She's young, she's from a poor family, and I look out for her. That's all it is. But you keep going after her, again and again. What is that if not asking for trouble?"

I murmured a quiet "Mm" and said, "It won't happen again."

Oliver seemed caught off guard by that. He froze for a long moment before gently reaching for my hand.

"By the way, can I borrow your wedding ring?"

"Alberta's been in a bad mood lately. She said she likes the style of your ring, so I want to buy her one just like it."

But he quickly noticed my ring finger was bare.

Oliver stared.

"Where's your ring?"

I stood up, went to the walk-in closet, and came back with a small box, which I handed to him.

"Here. Take it."

"Check the size. If her fingers are about the same as mine, she can just wear this one."

"Oh, wait. I forgot. You don't like giving her secondhand things. In that case, just put it back in the closet when you're done with it."

Oliver fixed his gaze on me, something dark and unreadable shifting behind his eyes.

He didn't respond to any of what I'd said about the ring. Instead, he asked, "You used to care so much about your wedding ring."

"Why did you take it off?"

I smiled faintly.

Care so much. Yeah. That was an understatement.

I'd flown to several countries just to find the perfect pair. Design sketches had covered half my desk. Every single day, I'd sent Oliver photos asking, Does this one look good? What about this one?

He never replied. Not once.

When the rings finally arrived, I had to pester him for ages before he'd even put his on.

And now, after all that, he couldn't even remember what my ring looked like. He wanted to buy Alberta a matching one and needed to borrow the original just to compare.

I said nothing more. Oliver set the ring box down. Silence stretched between us for a long time.

"We'll deal with the ring later. Come to dinner at my parents' place tonight."

"My mom misses you."

I closed my laptop.

"Sorry. I don't have time tonight."

"I have a flight to catch."