Chapter 3

The smile Whitney had forced onto her face slowly froze as the guests chattered on, her complexion turning pale as she realized that the "Mrs. Larson" they were talking about was actually Yvette. So Cody had taken Yvette to so many places, done so many things, and met so many people behind her back. They had spent every day together, never leaving each other's side. No wonder his feelings for Yvette had gradually changed. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," she said, fleeing in a panic. She was afraid that she would break down right there if she stayed for another second. In the restroom mirror, Whitney saw her own pale face staring back at her. She turned on the faucet, letting the icy water rush over her trembling hands. It turned out that when heartbreak cut deep enough, even breathing became difficult. When she finally pulled herself together and stepped out, an amorous sound drifted through the dim hallway. "Mr. Larson…" Yvette's delicate voice came through, mixed with breathless moans. Whitney froze. Around the corner, Cody had Yvette pinned against the wall as he kissed her like a man possessed. His hands gripped her slender waist, and his kisses were fierce and urgent. He looked nothing like the restrained, careful man Whitney knew. "Mr. Larson, stop… I can't breathe…" Yvette blushed as she pushed him away, her voice dripping with sultry sweetness. Cody chuckled and brushed his thumb against her swollen lips. "You handled all those positions just fine last night. And now you can't even take a kiss?" "That many times in one night…" Yvette buried her face in his chest. "I wonder how Ms. Scott ever kept up with you…" "Are you jealous? Whit and I are just connected on a mental level. In bed, only you can turn me on. Once you have the baby, I'll get you your own villa." Cody lifted her chin, coaxing gently, "Stay with me, okay?" Yvette nodded sweetly, then rose on her toes and kissed him. The two melted into each other again. Cody scooped her into his arms and strode toward the garage. Whitney stared as the car began to rock in the shadows. Her chest ached so sharply it felt like it was being torn open. She closed her eyes, remembering how Cody had always been careful with her in bed. His every touch was restrained, and he never let his desire take full control. She thought it was because he cherished her—she never realized it was simply because he felt no desire for her at all. And now that he had found someone who matched him perfectly in bed, he was completely consumed, so much so that he even lied to her to plan a wedding for Yvette. A wave of helplessness and grief swept through her. She staggered back into the hall, forcing a smile as she continued playing hostess. Drained and weary, she turned around, only to see Yvette approaching her with a timid look. Her lips were red and swollen, and her carefully done makeup was smudged with sweat. A few obvious red marks dotted her neck. "M-Ms. Scott…" Yvette mumbled, fiddling nervously with the hem of her dress. "Do you have any makeup with you? I need to touch mine up a bit." Whitney clenched her fists so hard that her nails cut into her palms. The pain was the only thing keeping her anger buried. Just as she was about to speak, someone bumped into the champagne tower beside them. Hundreds of crystal glasses came crashing down. Before Whitney could react, shards of glass flew everywhere. Pain sliced across her skin as she hit the ground hard. She lifted her head with effort, only to see Cody rush over in a flash. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled Yvette into his arms and shielded her protectively. His suit was torn by the glass, but all he cared about was the woman in his embrace. "Where are you hurt?" "My ankle…" Yvette's voice trembled, her eyes welling up like a frightened doe's. Without a word, Cody swept her into his arms. It was only as he turned that he finally saw Whitney on the ground. His gaze faltered for just a second. But the moment he met Yvette's tear-filled eyes, he walked out of the hall without looking back. Whitney lay on the cold, hard floor. Her birthday cake was crushed under people's feet. The bouquet that read "Happy 26th Birthday, Whitney" was kicked to the side, flattened beyond recognition. Tears mixed with blood rolled down her cheeks, stinging every wound. She bit down hard and dragged herself up. Alone, she hailed a cab and went to the hospital. … In the ER, a nurse cleaned Whitney's wounds. The sting of the alcohol made her gasp sharply, but she refused to make a sound. "Your injuries are pretty bad. Did you come alone?" the nurse asked gently. Whitney gave a small, strained smile. "I can manage." On her way to the pharmacy, she passed by one of the VIP wards. The door was ajar. Through the gap, she saw Cody kneeling on the floor, gently tending to Yvette's injured ankle. "It hurts…" Yvette pouted. Cody lowered his head and blew softly on the wound. "There, there. A little blow, and it'll feel better." His gentle tone made Whitney's eyes burn. Last year, when she cut her hand while cooking, Cody had scolded her gently while cleaning her wound. "Whit, don't go into the kitchen again. Let the maids handle it. There, there. A little blow and it'll feel better." Just then, two nurses stepped out of the ward and started gossiping the moment the door shut. "She just got a tiny scratch, and her boyfriend actually threw money around to get the hospital director to come see her. Tsk tsk, talk about being spoiled." "A hottie who spoils his girlfriend like that? Gosh. She's seriously lucky to have someone so devoted and attentive. I'm dying of envy." Whitney slowly closed her eyes. She remembered how Cody used to take medicine with her just to coax her into taking hers. He would even get up in the middle of the night to turn on every light when she went to the bathroom just so she wouldn't bump into anything. The man who once cared for her so deeply, who used to see no one but her, now loved and doted on another woman. So what reason did she have left to stay?