On my birthday—the same day Troy hyped some "surprise" for me online—I saw a photo that afternoon.

He was on my horse. With his assistant.

His shirt hung open, red finger marks dragged across his chest.

Caption?

[First time in my life. Thanks to him.]

The comments went wild:

[Jealous of whoever touched those abs.]

[That position... damn.]

Troy liked that one.

My chest went cold.

I thought that side of him was just for me. Turns out—it could be anyone.

I washed the horse myself. Scrubbed off every trace.

Then I signed the ranch over to him.

"You can give the rest away. Pick whoever you want."

He lit up.

I said yes to the arranged marriage.

I pulled up to the horse ranch right at three.

After I parked, I spotted them—one guy, one girl, riding close like they owned the place.

Troy Gardiner had his shirt hanging open, every button undone. Pants half unfastened too. Classy.

Even from here, the marks on his chest were obvious. Fresh. Messy. Not subtle.

Finger marks. The kind you don't get by accident.

Yeah. Anyone with eyes could figure out what they'd just been doing.

I snapped a photo and sent it to Troy.

He checked his phone and jerked his head up. The second he saw me, his brows slammed together.

He swung off the horse—and Ellie Yarwood, his assistant, slipped right into his arms like she'd rehearsed it.

She leaned in, whispering in his ear.

Just like that, his face softened. He smiled. Actually smiled. Said something back to her.

And when he walked over to me, that smile was still there.

I watched them—wrapped up in each other like the rest of the world didn't exist.

That's when it hit me.

I'd made it all up in my head.

I was never the one he planned to surprise.

All morning, I'd been getting ready—pushing back meetings, canceling everything. I had the house cleaned, redecorated. Even bought the car Troy wanted.

Because today wasn't just my birthday.

It was our anniversary.

Troy forgot all of it.

Not just that—he let another woman ride my horse.

So what now? Was he not mine anymore either?

I clenched my fists, swallowing the anger.

Ellie stepped up fast, stopping in front of Troy.

"Ms. Beaumont, the client's an equestrian expert. Troy brought me to improve my skills. You're not upset, are you?"

She said it like it was all for the company—like disagreeing would make me the problem.

Almost funny.

It'd been years since anyone talked to me like that.

"I'm not upset. If you don't close the deal, just resign."

Ellie went still. "Deals depend on both sides. I can't control that."

I let out a cold laugh. "Then why are you riding a horse?"

"I—"

My eyes dragged over her. "You looked pretty good out there. Done this before?"

Ellie clearly had no clue what I was getting at. "I rode a few times when I was younger."

The way she handled that horse said otherwise. She wasn't new.

She should've recognized it too—my Quarter Horse. Bought at auction. Two million.

I was about to press her when Troy ran out of patience.

He walked over, slung an arm around me, and steered me toward the parking lot.

"Alright, Belinda. I just brought her to try it out. Don't make it a thing. You don't even ride these horses. We just messed around for an afternoon. You don't mind."

I stopped and stepped out of his arm.

"I do mind. I bought that horse as a foal. I raised it myself. I don't even ride it. She doesn't get to touch it. You brought someone to my ranch without asking—did you respect me at all? And what's on that horse? Do I need to have it tested?"

The air went cold.

Ellie dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, Ms. Beaumont. This is my fault.

"Troy, don't argue because of me. It's not worth it."

She knew I was mad out of jealousy—and flipped it into a status play.

Smart.

Her eyes went red on cue. I almost laughed. "Ellie, you like riding, right? I'll give you a horse. Ride whenever you want."

Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

My voice went cold. "Know your place. You're just an assistant. If it's not yours, don't touch it."

Troy finally clocked that I was actually mad and rushed over. "Belinda, I'm sorry. Today's our anniversary—and your birthday."

He leaned in close. "I didn't get you a gift this year. So I thought... I'd give you me."

He shifted, just enough to show the bow at his neck.

I'd known Troy for ten years. Been with him for eight.

Every time he forgot my birthday, he pulled the same move to get me to forgive him.

Eight years—seven times.

I really thought this year would be different. Our last year before marriage.

Yeah. I overthought that.

From start to finish, I was the one giving more.

At dinner, I barely spoke.

At first, he tried—jokes, small talk, all of it. Trying to get a smile out of me.

A few tries in, he gave up. Got annoyed.

Only after we got home did he switch back to his usual easygoing self.

He brushed a kiss against the corner of my lips. "I'll shower first. Wait for your gift."

I followed him into the bedroom.

Stuff was already laid out across the bed.

Real subtle.

That was part of why I'd stayed so devoted to Troy.

He always knew how to smooth things over after pushing me too far.

My expression darkened. I grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the guest bathroom.

The second I walked in, something felt off.

In the trash—worn women's underwear. Still stained.

Bold lace. Definitely not mine.

He'd asked me to wear stuff like that before. I always said no.

My chest sank.

I went back and sat on the bed, waiting.

Troy came out in a sheer shirt, grabbed a pair of cat ears, and slipped them on. "Belinda, help me with the tail?"

I held it, not moving. "Why is there women's underwear in the guest bathroom trash?"

Troy froze. Panic flashed in his eyes. "That... I don't know. I'll ask tomorrow. Maybe Margaret tossed it by mistake."

Margaret. The housekeeper.

"She's over sixty. Why would she wear something like that?"

"I—"

He scrambled off the bed, trying to explain, coming up with nothing.

Then his phone rang—sharp, urgent.

He picked up. Two sentences in, his face changed.

He ripped off the cat ears, grabbed a coat, and headed out.

I caught his hand. "Where are you going?"

"Ellie got in a car accident on the way back. She's alone here. I'm going to check on her."

I didn't let go. "Send someone from HR. You don't need to go yourself."

His face darkened. "Belinda Beaumont, can you stop making everything about you? She's alone in Rivera—that's hard enough. I just want to help her, and you're jealous of this? That's childish."

That anger made everything I'd done feel stupid.

The last bit of hope I had left dropped straight into disappointment.

I watched him walk out, then called my dad.

"Dad, I'll do the arranged marriage."

After Troy left, I looked around the house I'd lived in for five years.

I bought this place for him after the company went public.

I wanted a real home with him—not just another house.

Ten years ago, I fell for Troy at first sight.

I chased him for two years before he finally said yes.

After graduation, I chose him. Cut ties with my family. Turned down my dad's offer to take over the business.

I never went back.

I left everything—my old life, my friends—and stayed here with him.

He said Ellie had no one here.

Did I?

Eight years later, what did I get?

His lies. And the distance growing between us.

Because of the fallout with my dad, I couldn't touch any family business.

So I jumped into entertainment—something I knew nothing about.

Back then, we had each other's backs. Every day was about keeping the company alive.

That was when we were closest.

Later, the company went public.

And just like that, everything changed.

He met more people. Got more ambitious. Started looking down on how careful I was.

To him, I was holding the company back.

Fine.

Then I wouldn't hold it back anymore.

I packed all night.

Didn't stop until dawn.

That's when Troy finally texted.

[Ellie's leg is injured. I'll be at the hospital for a while.]

I replied with two words:

[Do whatever.]

***

The next day, I went to the office, pulled up the accounts, and called a lawyer to split the shares.

Back when we started, I'd wanted to hand him everything. He played the decent guy, said he wouldn't take advantage, so we signed an agreement.

Fifty-fifty split, if it ever came to that. Final say on everything stayed with me—no approval needed.

I signed my name next to his from eight years ago.

Time felt fake in that moment—like an arrow cutting through eight years, landing straight in my chest.

I worked straight through till two before it hit me—I hadn't eaten.

Right then, Troy pushed the door open. Ellie trailed behind him on crutches.

He set the food down. "Come eat."

"I heard from your secretary you've been working nonstop and skipped meals again." He looked at me like I was the problem. "Didn't you promise to take care of yourself?"

I glanced at Ellie. "Wasn't she supposed to stay in the hospital?"

He smiled, of course. "She said the company's busy and felt bad taking leave. Insisted on coming in. Even closed a deal this morning. Ellie's really capable. Just let yesterday go."

Yeah, sure.

I got up and walked to the table. "Alright."

I was leaving anyway. No point arguing.

As I passed Ellie, she grabbed my sleeve.

"Ms. Beaumont, I know you're unhappy with me. But don't worry, I'll stay in my place. Could you withdraw the penalty? People are already gossiping."

Troy frowned. "What penalty?"

She pulled up the notice on her phone. "HR marked me absent without leave yesterday."

Troy instantly pulled out his phone to call HR.

"Her absence is a fact. Calling now will just make more people talk."

His face darkened. "Why would you do that?"

"She was absent. I followed policy."

He shot to his feet. "Don't hide behind policy. You're the boss—policy is whatever you say. You took this out on her just to embarrass me."

I stayed calm. "Collateral damage. Sorry."

"You—!"

Ellie glanced between us, then rushed in, "I'm sorry. I'll accept the penalty. Ms. Beaumont, please don't be mad at Troy—ah!"

She tilted—then dropped straight onto the coffee table.

Dishes and soup splashed all over her.

"Ms. Beaumont, why did you push me?"