His Secret Wife Was My Best Friend Chapter 23

His Secret Wife Was My Best Friend Chapter 23 A Life Beyond Him

The day Gareth decided to leave, Greyhaven’s long stretch of rain finally ended.

The street outside Benedict’s office was crowded. Gareth sat in the café opposite, his gaze fixed on the entrance.

The coffee tasted bitter, but nowhere near as bitter as the confusion and grief inside him. He took a small sip. Even the aftertaste hurt.

At lunchtime, office workers began filing out of the building.

He straightened, searching the crowd anxiously.

Then he saw Cecily. Slim and bright–eyed in a Chanel–style suit, she was laughing with two colleagues as they headed toward a nearby restaurant.

A gust of wind loosened the scarf at her neck and sent it fluttering to the roadside.

Gareth stood and rushed out of the café, momentarily forgetting where he was.

Cecily had already picked up the scarf and brushed it off. When she looked up, she saw him staring from across the street.

They watched each other silently through the passing traffic.

They were so close, yet the distance felt impossible to cross.

His eyes reddened. He opened his mouth, full of things he wanted to say, one word came.

but not

Cecily remained calm. As she folded the scarf, someone gently touched her shoulder.

“What are you looking at?”

Benedict had come up behind her.

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

He followed her gaze, but the light turned green, and several moving cars blocked his view.

He looked back at her. “A new pasta restaurant opened nearby. Want to try it?”

Her eyes brightened. “Yes. I haven’t had pasta in ages.”

He carefully tied her scarf, then took her hand and led her away.

When the traffic passed, Gareth searched anxiously, only to see them walking away together, hand in hand.

Only then did he truly understand that he might have lost Cecily forever.

Back in Northcote, he faced questions from the other shareholders and a mess that seemed to have no end.

The company’s stock had plunged, and the Hollis family was at the center of the scandal.

He numbed himself with work, day after day. A year passed that way. Then, while interviewing candidates for a secretary position, he saw Daphne.

“What are you doing here?”

The sight of her filled him with anger.

He blamed Daphne for the way things had ended with Cecily, for the disaster his life had become.

She looked subdued, as though life had beaten every reaction out of her.

“My parents stopped giving me money. I have to work.”

She knew Gareth and Cecily were finished for good. She had come to gamble on there being one last trace of tenderness in him.

His first words destroyed that hope.

“Stay away from me, Daphne. Or I’ll make you pay for what you did.”

She flinched, the light fading from her eyes again, and quietly took back her résumé.

Before opening the door, she said, “I hear Cecily’s getting married. To the Fenton family’s eldest son, the one building a business overseas. Did you know?”

Without waiting to see his pale face, she left with a small, vindictive smile.

Gareth went cold all over. His chest rose and fell as he struggled to contain what he was feeling.

Then he swept every document off the desk and collapsed over it.

Cecily and Benedict held their wedding back home.

Her mother resented that she hadn’t chosen this son–in–law herself. Still, the generous financial provisions for Cecily in Benedict’s prenuptial agreement persuaded her to attend, if grudgingly.

Online, people couldn’t stop talking about the photographs of Cecily in her wedding dress, smiling radiantly.

[She’s gorgeous. I heard she went abroad and built a career after breaking up with the Hollis heir. Nothing looks better on a woman than a life of her own.]

[Her husband’s in jewelry, too. They look perfect together. Apparently, he transferred half his assets to her before they even married. Now that’s generous.]

The woman everyone was discussing was sitting on the bed in the bridal suite, going through wedding cards and checks.

“Our relatives were incredibly generous. I’ll deposit these checks tomorrow.”

Benedict stood beside her with a towel, drying her freshly washed hair.

He kissed the crown of her head. “No rush. It’s all yours.”

Delighted, Cecily set the cards and checks aside, turned, and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Done with the cards already?” he asked softly.

“All of it together isn’t worth as much as you,” she murmured.

He laughed, dropped the towel, and cupped her face to kiss her. She answered him with all the tenderness she had.

Life was fair after all. It had plunged her into darkness, then given her something better than she could have hoped for.

She had found her courage again and grown into a stronger version of herself. Perhaps that was what meeting Benedict had meant.

The End