Page 133 of The Temporary Bride

I nod, trying to ignore the empty space in my chest that Gabriel’s words haven’t filled. The solidarity from my brothers helps, but it doesn’t touch the ache of Chloe’s absence.

The fight ahead pales next to the one I’ve already lost. The strength of my brothers is something, but they can’t replace what she left.

And honestly, I don’t know if anything can.

As I’m leaving the office later, my thoughts are still on Chloe. I haven’t been able to focus on anything—the MediaSphere lawsuit, the shambles of Eclipse Studios, or even ordering a sandwich for lunch.

In the elevator, I pull out my phone, acting on an impulse I can’t shake. I shoot off a quick text to Ivy.

ME: Hey, how’s Chloe doing?

The doors trundle open, and I step out into the lobby, making a small effort to set my expression to something neutral. A smile would be impossible to muster, but I can at least get to neutral.

Being the CEO of a company like Thorne Enterprises has been an illuminating experience. Sometimes, it feels like our stock declines any time I miss my morning coffee, as if the market can sense my mood and adjusts accordingly. Something as simple as scowling in public can spook some investors.

It’s a big job, but I’d be able to handle it all if she were with me. I know it.

My phone doesn’t buzz with a response from Ivy until I’m climbing into the driver’s seat of my Audi.

IVY: No different from how she was doing two hours ago, you freak.

I roll my eyes at the text. I’ve known Ivy long enough to know she’s just messing with me—she’s kept Chloe’s privacy her foremost concern, but she’s sympathetic to me too.

ME: Come on, give me something here.

IVY: You’re like an addict. I feel like I’m enabling you.

ME: Please?

IVY: Fine. She’s holding it together. She’s in the guest room watching a movie right now. You happy?

ME: Yes. Thank you.

I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. No, I’m not happy, but I know that’s not an acceptable answer for Ivy. It’s not her fault that I’m in this mess.

Ivy’s updates aren’t enough for me anymore, either. I need to see Chloe—hear her laugh, hear her voice. I can’t keep doing this.

As I’m about to start my engine, my phone rings. I glance at the screen—it’s our private security firm. I answer quickly.

“Mr. Thorne,” the investigator says, “I have an update for you on the hit-and-run case involving Mrs. Thorne.”

I sit up straighter, my pulse picking up. “Go ahead.”

“We’ve identified the driver. He was arrested earlier today. It turns out he was drunk at the time of the accident. The police have him in custody, thanks to the information we provided.”

A grim satisfaction settles over me. “Good. Make sure he sees the inside of a jail cell. I want him held accountable for every bit of pain he caused.”

“We’ll handle it,” the investigator says. “You’ll be kept informed as the case progresses.”

I end the call, staring at the dashboard for a long moment. Anyone who hurt Chloe will be dealt with. I’ll see to it personally. Whether it’s her conniving family or the careless drunk driver, they’ll all pay for what they’ve done to my wife.

The anger inside me burns hot, but underneath it, I’m just frustrated. Seeing this man punished won’t undo what happened to Chloe or repair the damage done.

The truth is, no amount of justice can fix the hurt I’ve caused her. I have to face the fact that, no matter what happens to this driver or how many legal battles we win, it won’t mend what’s been broken.

Feeling lost, I pull out of the parking lot, unsure where I’m going. I run through my options. I could drive aimlessly looking for some kind of clarity, but I know I won’t find it. I could drive to Ivy’s and beg Chloe for forgiveness—but I know that won’t work.

I find myself heading toward my mother’s house, the streets blurring together as I drive. I’m not sure what I’m hoping to achieve by visiting her, but I don’t have any better ideas.