Chapter 12
Carter’s POV
It had been a week since Veronica disappeared. Seven days, twenty–four hours each, stretching endlessly without a single word or clue about where she’d gone or why. Every passing moment was like a gnawing itch. under my skin.
Not a minute passed without me regretting my actions. Maybe I should have paid more attention to her. Maybe I should have tried being a better husband to her instead of holding onto a grudge for three whole years.
I sat in my office, my fingers drumming against the edge of the desk. Before me lay a stack of resumes, each representing yet another potential replacement for her.
“Next candidate.” I muttered to my assistant, who nodded and motioned. for the applicant to enter.
The woman walked in, exuding confidence. She handed over her portfolio and sat down across from me, flashing a professional smile.
“Tell me about
voice flat. This ur experience,” I said, leaning back in my chair, my
voice flat. This was the twenty–third person I was interviewing and none. of them seemed to match Veronica by half.
She launched into a rehearsed speech about her qualifications, experience in executive administration, and multitasking skills. I barely listened. My thoughts drifted to Veronica, how effortlessly she’d managed my chaos. How she never needed to list her skills because her work spoke for itself.
“…and I pride myself on being proactive,” the candidate finished, her voice pulling me back to the present.
“Proactive?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, sir,” she said, her smile unwavering.
I studied her for a moment before shaking my head. “Thank you for coming in. We’ll be in touch.”
Her smile faltered slightly, but she nodded, gathering her things before leaving the room.
My assistant, Mark, entered, carrying his tablet. “That’s the last candidate. for the day. More will come tomorrow,” he said.
More? Come to where?
“Cancel the rest,” I snapped, tossing the resumes aside. “None of them are worth my time.”
Mark frowned but nodded. “Understood, sir.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled to her number again. For the hundredth time, I dialed it, and for the hundredth time, it went straight to voicemail.
“Damn it, Veronica,” I muttered, my frustration boiling over. I slammed the phone down on the desk.
Mark hesitated, then stepped forward cautiously. “Sir, perhaps it’s time to move on. She’s clearly made her choice.”
“Move on?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “Do you think I can just forget about her? After everything we’ve been through?”
Mark lowered his gaze, choosing his words carefully. “It’s just… she left, sir. Without a word to prepare anyone. And she hasn’t reached out. Maybe she doesn’t want to be found.”
I glared at him, my chest tightening. “She’ll come back. She has to.”
Mark wisely said nothing, instead handing me an envelope. “This just arrived. It’s addressed to Mrs. Veronica Blackwood.”
My heart skipped a beat. “From where?”
“No sender information, sir.
I snatched the envelope and tore it open, my breath hitching as I pulled out the papers inside. My eyes scanned the header, and my stomach dropped.
“Divorce papers,” I said aloud, disbelief coating every word.
Mark looked at me cautiously. “She sent them?”
I flipped to the signature line, and there it was: Veronica’s signature, bold and final.
“She signed them,” I muttered, my voice barely audible. “She signed them. without even talking to me.”
I felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of anger and helplessness. I flipped to the return address, hoping for a clue, but it looked suspiciously generic.
“Check this address,” I barked, handing the papers to Mark.
He hesitated. “Sir, I already did. It’s a fake address. She doesn’t want to be found.”
“Of course, it’s fake,” I muttered, pacing the room. My mind raced, torn between fury and despair.
Mark cleared his throat, clearly nervous. “There’s one more thing, sir.”
“What?” I snapped, whirling to face him.
“You have a dinner appointment tonight with Miss Meaghan. At Le Jardin. Shall I confirm your attendance?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling sharply. Meaghan was the last person I wanted to see right now, but appearances mattered. “Confirm it.” I said curtly. “And…” I paused, an idea forming. “Lift all restrictions on Veronica’s accounts.”
Mark blinked. “All of them, sir?”
“Yes, all of them,” I said firmly. “If she uses one, whether it’s for a hotel or anything else, I want to know immediately.”
It was my only hope in finding her. At least if she lodged in one of them or used any of her accounts. I would easily track her down.
“Understood,” he said, bowing slightly before leaving the room.
Alone again, I slumped into my chair, the divorce papers still in my hand. My eyes drifted to the framed photograph on my desk. It was from a company event, one of the rare occasions Veronica had smiled so freely in public.
I traced her face with my thumb, my chest tightening with an ache I didn’t know how to ease. Memories of her flooded my mind. How she always brought me coffee just the way I liked it, no matter how chaotic her own morning had been. How she stayed late to organize my files when I’d left them in disarray, never complaining. How she had been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it.
I could remember the number of times she hid away her tears and like the coward that I was, I pretended not to care. Telling myself she was just seeking attention.
I cursed myself inwardly. Even if she was, I should have never ignored her pain. And her grandmother’s burial, I should have been there with
her… I should have cancelled that damn meeting!
And now she was gone. And I didn’t know what to do or how to manage. All I could do was regret and think about the things I could have done. differently.
But this wasn’t over. It couldn’t be.
Veronica might have disappeared, but I’d find her. I’d find her and make her see that this, us, wasn’t something she could walk away from. Not without a fight.
I don’t get if I have to go on my knees and kiss her fucking feet but I will have her back.
