Chapter 7

Sasha wasted no time. The moment Lindsey walked out of Alex’s life, she pounced–hiring a wedding planner, booking venues, and ordering floral arrangements as if she had just won a lottery. Because to her, she had. Lindsey was gone.

“Finally,” Sasha said as she sipped champagne on the penthouse balcony, flipping through fabric swatches. “Everything we planned, it’s happening. Just like we said, Alex.”

Alex, seated beside her with his laptop half open, nodded absently. “Yeah… sure.”

He barely looked up. He barely cared. But Sasha didn’t notice. She was too busy scrolling through dress ideas and honeymoon packages.

“Everything’s a go,” she announced one evening. “Plane tickets are ready–we leave in five days. Invitations are out. This is it. Our dream.”

Alex glanced up, gave a faint smile, and said, “Great.”

She kissed him on the cheek and returned to her call with the planner. But as she talked about centerpieces and the perfect ivory shade, Alex stared blankly at his screen.

He told himself this was what he wanted. What he’d been waiting for. Lindsey had made it easy–she walked out on her own. He didn’t lift a finger. That should have made it feel like a win. A clean exit. A convenient ending.

But every night when he came home, a strange silence welcomed him. He never admitted it out loud–but part of him had started hoping. Hoping maybe he’d open the door and see her. That she’d return, angry and hurt, sure–but still there.

Instead, he found Sasha.

One evening, as he returned late from work, he smelled something burning. His heart raced for a second–Lindsey?–but it vanished quickly.

He rushed to the kitchen, only to find Sasha standing in a silk camisole, her hair up, looking pleased with herself.

“I made dinner,” she said, smiling brightly. “Thought I’d surprise you. Chicken–just how you like it.”

Alex nodded and sat at the table, watching her plate the food. When he took the first bite, he tried to hide his expression. But the taste was… awful.

“This is… different,” he muttered, chewing slowly.

Sasha beamed. “It’s homemade! I followed a recipe Lindsey used to do, remember that stew she made?”

He grimaced, putting his fork down. “Yeah. That’s the thing. When she made it, it tasted like something.”

Sasha’s face fell. “Excuse me?”

He sighed, standing up. “I’m just tired. Don’t make it a thing.”

“No–what did you just say?” Her voice sharpened. “You’re still thinking about her? Why? She’s gone. I’m the one in front of you now, Alex. Me.”

“I said I’m tired,” he snapped, avoiding her gaze.

And he walked out of the kitchen, leaving her fuming.

The next day was the Hale family’s annual gala. It was tradition–an event Lindsey had attended every year since marrying Alex, and one his mother held dear.

Despite everything, Alex brought her favorite dress with him. He had it steamed, packed, and placed carefully in the car. He even waited an extra hour at home, checking his phone every ten minutes.

Still nothing.

He called again. Texted. Are you coming? Please. Just tell me if you’re okay.

The butlers he sent to find her returned empty-handed.

No sign of Lindsey.

No word. No response.

Eventually, with no choice, he headed to the gala alone.

Sasha walked beside him, proud and confident in a stunning red dress. “Don’t worry,” she whispered as they stepped into the grand ballroom. “I’ll be your date tonight.”

He forced a smile, but his eyes scanned the crowd, hoping.

His mother approached a few minutes later, elegantly dressed and glowing as always, with his father by her side.

“Where’s Lindsey?” she asked immediately.

“She’s… not feeling well,” Alex lied.

“Oh,” she frowned. “But she never misses this. She always makes time for us.”

“She’s just… busy.”

“Busy?” his mother repeated, clearly unconvinced. “That girl has been nothing but devoted. She calls me every week without fail–asks about my blood pressure, reminds me about my medication. She even books your father’s doctor appointments when I forget, and sends food when we’re too tired to cook. Always so thoughtful.”

Alex blinked.

He didn’t know that.

He never asked.

He always assumed those little things just… happened. But now, as his mother’s words sank in, something twisted in his chest. He remembered Lindsey quietly asking, “Did your mom get the soup?” or “Should I remind your dad about his check-up?”

He never paid attention. Now, it haunted him.

Paula, who had been listening from nearby, cut in with a smug smirk. “Probably sulking somewhere. You know how she gets when things don’t go her way.”

His mother turned sharply. “Don’t say that about her. Lindsey has never sulked. She’s gentle and more family than half the people in this room.”

She turned back to Alex. “Did something happen? Did you two fight?”

Alex shook his head, growing uncomfortable. “No. It’s fine.”

His mother’s gaze narrowed. “Because if I find out you did something to her, Alexander Hale, I will strip you of every ounce of trust and power you think you have in this family. Don’t forget who raised you.”

Before Alex could respond, one of the butlers hurried across the ballroom, whispering something to his mother’s ear.

Her face changed immediately.

She grabbed the papers from the butler’s hand and scanned them. Then, her eyes flew to Alex–wide, furious.

“You let this happen?” she hissed.

“M–Mom-”

She slapped him. Hard. In front of everyone.

Gasps echoed.

She shoved the divorce papers at his chest.

“You pushed her away. She divorced you. You let her go.” Her voice trembled with rage. “What did you do to her for her to leave you? Did you cheat on her?”