May’s POVI glanced at my phone as it buzzed on the dresser, half expecting another message from Asher. As I picked it up, I wasn't surprised to see his name flash on the screen, signaling another message asking me to come to his house for our meet-up.It was the third time he had done this; the first had ended in a tense conversation about our divorce, and after I had flatly refused the second invitation, I was even more hesitant now.What was his problem by the way? And why did he keep changing the venue of our meeting as if the work we were to do wasn’t important, or it was something she could play with.I looked down at my phone again to see if I should leave it unread or not, and I was still deciding that when another message appeared.“This is the butler, I'm using Mr. Campbell’s phone. He said you had to come home because he was feeling weak, but I've been trying to force him to go to the hospital, and he's refusing. He's been running a temperature since."I read it out loud, w

May’s POVI was seated on my couch in the living room this Saturday afternoon when I got a text from Asher. Without opening the text or reading it at all, I groaned.Just what was the problem this time? I asked myself. Just one more invite to his house, and I might just blow up anger.Emily glanced at me with her eyebrows pushed up in question. “What's going on, May?” she asked me.Of course, she was going to ask me because of how I have exclaimed, but the fact that I haven't even checked the text yet, made it difficult for me to explain what made me groaned. All I asked for was a Saturday to myself, but even that seemed to be too much.Why won’t I just get a damn break, for crying out loud, one that I not only deserved, but I’m overdue for. I had been working so hard for the past week as if my life depended on it.I slumped deeper into the couch to rest my back as I stared at my phone but without making a move to see what it was about.To be honest, I was feeling frustrated, and it f

May’s POVAs Asher strolled towards us, his presence seemed to command the attention of the entire space. His tailored suit exuded sophistication, and every step he took exuded confidence. It was as if he was stepping out of a model magazine, but one under Forbes.I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on him, admiring the way he carried himself with such ease and assurance. This was a nice time to show up, looking all dreamy like this, even though I wasn’t expecting him.Really, though, I was surprised to see him. It was like those movie scenes or a chapter in a book when the male lead showed up just right about when the female lead needed help. But what truly caught me off guard was the realization that this was Asher. I hadn't been expecting him to be here, standing before me right now."Oh, so you're this woman’s husband.” He asked, but it wasn’t a question. “I see. Listen man, tell your wife to pay her rent." His tone softened a little because Asher was pretty intimidating, with

Asher’s POVI was still processing our conversation when Brent approached me, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What was Gary doing here? And what did he say to you?" he asked from behind me, making me feel a déjà vu.What was it about tonight and being whispered to from behind, anyway? I glanced back at the spot where Gary had been standing moments ago, where I had just been feeling the importance of his advice, at Brent. He was looking at me with his eyes squinted and I wondered what was going through his head."Gary's the reason I organized this gala in the first place," I admitted, my voice steady despite the uncertainty I felt. "He told me it would be a way to get closer to May, to show her that I'm more than just the guy who jumped to the wrong conclusions about her." I told him, letting him see why it was important Gary was here before.Brent's eyes widened in surprise, and he shook his head, disbelief etched across his features. "I can't believe you, Asher. You're really goin

May’s POV I blew my nose again into the tissue Emily handed to me, but I didn’t feel any better. I was standing there in the hall, just outside the operating room, waiting for anyone to come tell me what was going on, how the surgery went, but there was nothing yet. I caught my reflection in the mirror that was against the window in front of me, and I could see that I looked like shit, but I didn’t care. I had my mascara run down a line on both sides of my face, and my eyes were red from all the tears I had cried. “Are you okay?” I heard my mother’s voice behind me, but I didn’t answer her. Just how in the world would she think that I was okay? I wasn’t, but I didn’t care, so she shouldn’t as well. “Just leave me alone.” I said, mentally. I wanted to open my mouth to say that, but I couldn’t. It was as if my throat had dried up, and somehow I just couldn’t deal. I needed water, something to ease this pain in my throat, this uneasiness, but I couldn’t even go get it from the cafet