Chapter 163
Chapter 163
Rhett's POV
My fingers tapped the steering wheel impatiently as I dialed. The call connected almost immediately.
"Martha, did Sheryl return home?" I asked without preamble.
"Mrs. Hayes?" Martha's confusion was evident in her voice. "But sir, she called me earlier today to say I should take a long vacation since both of you would be traveling. I tidied up the estate and left."
I hung up, my heart hammering against my ribcage. The dread building inside me was unlike anything I'd felt before.
When I pulled into Oakridge Estate's driveway minutes later, the house stood silent and imposing. I rushed inside, keys jangling in my trembling hands. The afternoon light spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across the marble floors.
Then I saw it – a glint on the coffee table that caught my eye like a beacon. A diamond ring. Her diamond ring.
My heart plummeted. Moving closer on leaden feet, I saw everything laid out with meticulous precision: a signed divorce agreement, her untouched diamond engagement ring, and a formal document relinqin Hayes Enterpriseares in Hayes Enterprise. Her elegant signature graced each page.
Rage erupted within me like a volcano. I swept everything off the table with a roar, papers fluttering to the ground like wounded birds. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone, calling her number repeatedly only to hear the automated voice tell me her phone was turned off.
I hurled my phone against the wall, watching it shatter like my composure.
"Sir?" Jack appeared in the doorway, his face carefully neutral despite the chaos.
"Get Mark. Now." My voice was barely recognizable.
They arrived minutes later, eyes widening at the destruction.
"Search everywhere she frequents," I ordered, lighting another cigarette. The ashtray before me was already overflowing with butts, evidence of my spiraling state.
When Mark's phone rang, I felt a spark of hope. But his face told me everything.
"Sir," he said quietly, "our contact at the airport confirms Mrs. Hayes left Boston thirty minutes ago."
"Where to? Domestic or international?" My voice was hoarse from smoking and shouting.
Mark shook his head. "We don't have that information yet."
I leaned back, a hollow laugh escaping me. So this was how she played it. Sheryl had left everything behind – her clothes, her jewelry, her life with me – taking only her identification. She knew that packing suitcases would alert security, who would immediately inform me.
While I'd been hoping for reconciliation, she'd been planning her escape.
How convenient. She'd left everything, including me. The bitterness of that thought consumed me as I stared at the ring glinting mockingly in the fading light.
In the bitter cold of early winter, Sheryl vanished from my world.
Sheryl's POV
I stood in Heathrow Airport, surrounded by the constant hum of travelers and announcements echoing overhead.
The weight I'd been carrying for months seemed to lift. I had never loved anyone the way I loved Rhett, never knew I could be so thoroughly broken by a relationship. I had entered our marriage with sincerity and courage, only to leave with scars.
But if love was no longer there, having the strength to walk away was its own kind of power.
As the boarding announcement for my flight came over the speakers, I walked toward the gate, not looking back.
Claudia's POV
The incessant doorbell ringing jolted me awake. I shuffled to the door in my slippers, checking my phone – 3:18 AM. Who the hell could it be at this hour?
When I opened the door, I nearly slammed it shut again from shock. Rhett Hayes stood there, looking nothing like the powerful, composed man I knew. His tall frame seemed smaller somehow, his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. The sharp, calculating eyes that always seemed to be three steps ahead were now bloodshot and desperate. He reeked of alcohol.
My first instinct was to close the door, but his hand shot out, wedging between the door and frame. I reopened it, noticing the red mark I'd left on his hand. He didn't seem to feel it.
"Where's Sheryl?" His voice was ravaged, barely recognizable.
I stepped back, allowing him inside. "I don't know. Honestly."
After Joel mentioned something seemed off this afternoon, I'd tried piecing together what had happened between Sheryl and Rhett. Divorce papers? She hadn't told me anything. I'd naively believed she was actually going on a business trip when she messaged me.
She wasn't traveling. She was escaping.
Rhett clearly didn't believe me. "Tell me where she is," he said, his voice softening to something close to pleading. "I need to talk to her."
"I'm telling you, I don't know." I showed him my phone screen. "Look how many times I've called her. Everything goes straight to voicemail."
I felt my own eyes welling up. "What happened between you two, Rhett? How could you push her this far?"
My voice cracked as I continued, "You know her personality, her history. Her mother died when she was young, her father is a heartless bastard, and that stepmother of hers is worse. She's suffered enough without you adding to it. What kind of man does that?"
"Sheryl's always been like this – all thorns on the outside, ready to strike anyone who hurts her, but she's fragile inside. When her mother died, she locked herself away for a month. Now she's gone and hidden herself again, but this time even I can't find her."
Rhett's expression darkened. He realized I truly didn't know.
"Did she say anything when she was here recently?" he asked, his voice strained.
"Recently? The last time I saw her was when you were in the hospital and she had that high fever. After that, she was always busy. I thought you two were doing well. I had no idea..."
My voice faltered. I didn't know what Sheryl had gone through, what had driven her to divorce and disappear.
"I'm warning you," I said, anger rising through my tears, "if anything happens to her, I don't care who your family is or that my father's the police commissioner – I'll make you pay."