Chapter 8
An insider leaked: [Gideon was married eight years ago. The recent ceremony was with his mistress.)
The internet exploded.
People flooded the comments, digging for details. The insider spilled about me and Gideon, and it hit the headlines.
Crowds swarmed Vesper’s vlog, asking if she was the other woman.
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On the same day, she posted a video, begging me to give Gideon back and not ruin their relationship.
She dodged the question, leading people to think I was the real mistress.
As I clicked my tongue at her spin, Gideon posted a video, admitting to cheating.
That nailed Vesper as the mistress. Furious fans turned on her.
[Shameless mistress acting all high and mighty.]
[A college grad stooping to be the other woman? Gross!]
Vesper didn’t expect Gideon to ditch the wedding and expose her.
She called him, but he didn’t answer.
Frustrated, she went to his house.
The butler was packing her stuff. She grabbed him and demanded, “Where is Gideon?”
He shook her off and assumed a business–like attitude. “Mr. Strathmore is not here, and
your things are packed.”
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Vesper was stunned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mr. Strathmore wants you to move out, and we’re cleaning the place for Mrs. Strathmore’s return,” he replied.
Just then, Gideon walked in, and she whimpered, “You’re kicking me out?”
His face was blank. “We’re done. I’ll have someone send you a million dollars.”
She pressed, “Why? You said you’d always love me.”
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Unwilling to have anything more to do with her, he had her kicked out and sat in the living
room.
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He searched for my traces, but my presence had long faded.
He felt lost and called me, but there was no answer. He could only send more people to look
for me.
One evening, Gideon showed up outside our studio..
I frowned, trying to slip away.
He grabbed my hand and called out, “Selene.”
His tone had a nervous edge. In all our years, I had never heard that.
I looked at him, stone–faced. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to take you home,” he said, somewhat humble.
“Home? My home’s here,” I snorted.
He reached for me, but I dodged.
“I mean our house,” he said. “I’m bringing you back.”
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I sneered, recalling my same plea before. He had looked at me with disdain. “Home? You don’t seriously think my home is yours too, do you?”
I stopped mentioning “home” after that.
“You don’t seriously think your home is mine too, do you?” I shot back.
His face paled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know my feelings then. Now I’ve realized how much I love you. Come home with me,
okay?”
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