Boyfriend Gave Fake Bag, I Married Billionaire Husband

The bag Liam Gilbert gave me, the Cartier bracelet, the Tiffany necklaceevery last one of them was fake.

I grabbed the whole pile of junk and marched into his company, wanting to hear him explain it to my face.

I pushed open the office door just as the wine was pouring from a decanter into a crystal glassthat bottle of Romane-Conti, the one he'd cried poverty over on my birthday, swearing he couldn't afford it, was being handed with great attentiveness to his new secretary.

His arm was around her waist, and he was smiling in a way I'd never once seen.

"You like it? The whole bottle's yours."

I didn't kick the door. I didn't scream. I didn't even make a sound.

I just backed away to the end of the hall and dialed the first name in my contacts.

"Donald Dickerson, when was it we got married again?"

The line went silent for two seconds.

"...You finally fucking remembered?"

"Mm."

I watched the elevator numbers count down.

"The county clerk's office. And send me my lawyer's number while you're at it."

...

His breathing came heavy on the other end.

"Carly Fox, are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

I walked out of Liam's building, the sunlight stabbing at my eyes.

"Wait for me outside the county clerk's office."

There wasn't a trace of hesitation in Donald's voice, and he hung up right away.

I stood at the edge of the busy road, phone in hand, my mind gone blank.

The car accident three years ago had knocked out my memory, and knocked away my marriage certificate too.

The doctor said it was selective amnesia, that some part of me was fleeing a pain I couldn't bear.

Now I understood.

Compared to being betrayed by the person closest to you, being deceived by a lover was nothing at all.

Liam's call chased me down just as I walked in my front door.

"Baby, where'd you go? I looked for you all afternoon."

His voice was gentle as always, like a net with no gaps to slip through.

I opened the closet and threw his things into the suitcase, one piece at a time.

"Liam, did you have a good time at the office?"

He paused over there.

"What office? I was out chasing a project all day. I'm dead on my feet."

The lie came right out of his mouth, not a flush to his face, not a skip in his pulse.

I laughed, furious.

"Really? That bottle of Romane-Contihow'd it taste?"

Dead silence on the line.

A few seconds later, Liam's voice turned angry.

"You came to my company? What's the meaning of this, Carly? Checking up on me?"

"Checking up on you?"

I slammed the last suitcase shut. "I was afraid I'd catch syphilis."

"Are you out of your goddamn mind!"

He finally tore off the mask, cursing at the top of his lungs. "It's just a bottle of wine! Is all this necessary? When did you turn into someone this impossible!"

I couldn't be bothered wasting words on him.

"I've packed your things. They're by the door. Come get them yourself."

"And one more thing. We're done."

Then I hung up and blocked him.

The world went quiet.

I slid to the floor, drained, hugging that pile of fakes, and the tears finally came.

Not for Liam. For myself.

For three years of a real heart thrown to the dogs.

I showed up outside the county clerk's office right on time.

A black Bentley was parked at the curb.

The window came down, revealing Donald's almost unfairly handsome face.

He'd gotten thinner, his features sharper, and he watched me with quiet eyes, something churning in them I couldn't read.

"Get in."

I pulled the door open and got in.

The car carried a faint scent of cedar, the smell I used to love most.

"How did you know I"

"I always knew."

He cut me off, his voice a little hoarse. "Where you lived, who you were with. I knew all of it."

My heart felt like something had knocked against it.

He'd known all along, and never once come to disturb me.

"Why?"

He didn't look at me. He started the car.

"The doctor said forcing you might make you break down."

"I didn't dare gamble on it."

The car eased steadily into the flow of traffic.

I watched the neon rushing backward outside the window, and suddenly asked.

"Why did we... get married in the first place?"

Donald's fingers tightened on the wheel.

"You forgot, so you forgot. It doesn't matter."

His tone was flat, but I heard the hurt in it all the same.

A man who cut down anyone in his path in business had let me see him hurt.

The resentment Liam had stirred up in me scattered, most of it, in an instant.

"So where are we... going now?"

I asked though I already knew.

He turned his head and glanced at me.

"Didn't you want a divorce?"

His throat moved once. "I'll give it to you."

The clerk's office had mostly emptied out.

A staff member slid two forms across the counter, her tone flat and rote.

"You're sure about this? There's a mandatory cooling-off period for divorce, just so you know."

I picked up the pen, didn't spare Donald a single glance, and signed my name across the form in one quick stroke.

Then I pushed it in front of him.

"Sign."

Donald kept his eyes down, staring at the paper, not moving.

The silence in the room was awful.

The clerk rapped her knuckles on the desk, impatient.

"Are you doing this or not? There are people waiting behind you."

Donald finally lifted his head, his gaze going past me, to something behind me.

I followed his eyes and turned around.

Liam stood in the doorway, breathing hard, hair a mess, shirt wrinkled, his face full of disbelief.

"Carly? What are you doing here?"

He rushed over and grabbed my wrist, his grip frighteningly tight.

"You're throwing a fit at me, and it's to come file for divorce with this man?"

His eyes darted between me and Donald, then landed on the form in my hand, and his face drained white in an instant.

"You're married? Since when? How did I not know about this?"

I shook his hand off, and the whole thing struck me as absurd.

"There's a lot you don't know."

"For instancethe bag you gave me was a fake. The necklace was a fake. Even that diamond ring you said stood for forever was moissanite."

Liam's face went from green to white and back again.

"I I was just short on cash! Carly, I'll make it all up to you later! I swear!"

He explained in a rush, trying to grab hold of me again.

Donald stood up.

He was half a head taller than Liam, and the simple act of rising carried a heavy pressure with it.

He pulled me, panicked as I was, behind him, his voice cold enough to cut.

"Short on cash, but you can buy an '82 Romane-Conti for your secretary?"

Liam's expression froze completely.

He clearly hadn't expected that Donald had seen that scene in the office too.

"You the two of you"

"We're the ones who are legally married."

Donald picked up the pen, didn't look at Liam once, and signed his name across the divorce agreement in a bold, sweeping hand.

Then he pushed the paper in front of the clerk.

"Process it."

Through the whole thing, he never looked at me again.

I stood behind him, watching the unyielding line of his profile, and my heart clenched, throb after throb.

He blamed me. He had to.

Blamed me for forgetting him, for falling for someone else, for making the first thing I did after getting my memory back dragging him here to divorce.

Liam threw himself forward like a madman.

"Carly! You can't do this to me! What about the three years we had!"

Donald blocked him with a flick of his arm and pinned him without effort.

"Three years you had?"

Donald smiled, but the smile never reached his eyes. "A relationship you built out of fakesthat gets to call itself a relationship?"

Each word landed square on Liam's weakest spot.

"When she was in that car accident, lying in a hospital bed, unconsciouswhere were you?"

"When she forgot everything and was terrified of the world like a childwhere were you then?"

"You just slipped in while she was down and helped yourself to a bargain."

Liam had nothing to say to that, his face flushing a dark, ugly red.

The clerk finished the paperwork and handed over two dark green divorce certificates.

"All done."

Donald took them, passed one to me, and put the other away.

From start to finish, his expression never changed at all.

He turned and walked away, without a trace of reluctance.

I gripped that brand-new certificate, and it felt like a joke.

Three years ago, I had wanted, more than anything, to marry him.

Three years later, I was the one who dragged him here and ended it all with my own hands.

Liam was still off to the side, yelling in bitter defiance.

"Carly, you'll regret this! You think this man is any good? He's a liar!"

I ignored him and went out after Donald.

His car was still parked where he'd left it, and he was leaning against the door, smoking.

When he saw me come out, he stubbed out the cigarette.

"I'll drive you home."

"Home where?"

I looked at him.

He paused, as if he didn't catch my meaning.

"Liam's placeisn't that where you live?"

"Not anymore."

I tossed the ring of keys to Liam's apartment into the trash can beside me. "Him and me, we're square now."

I lifted my head and looked straight into his eyes.

"Donald, I have nowhere to go. Will you take me in?"

Donald was silent for a long time.

Long enough that I thought he would say no.

He pulled the car door open. His voice gave nothing away.

"Get in."

The car sped the whole way and finally stopped at a gated community of houses.

Security here was tight. The guard at the entrance saw Donald's car, saluted respectfully, and waved us through.

I remembered this place.

This was our marital home.

Back then I had decorated every inch of it with a full heart, imagining a future with him.

The door opened, and everything inside was exactly as I remembered.

The Totoro slippers I'd bought by the entryway, the beige sofa I'd picked for the living room, even the succulents I'd kept on the balcony, still thriving.

As if I'd only gone away on a business trip and come home today.

Here, time seemed to have stopped.

"You"

My throat went tight. "You've been living here this whole time?"

"Mm."

Donald changed his shoes and got a pair of slippers for me.

"This is our home."

That one sentence turned my eyes red in an instant.

Our home.

He had been guarding this home I had long forgotten.

"Are you hungry? Let me make you a bowl of pasta."

He rolled up his shirt sleeves, baring firm forearms, and went into the kitchen.

I followed and leaned against the doorframe, watching him boil the water, drop in the pasta, and crack an egg with practiced ease.

His back was broad and steady, and it settled something in me completely.

"Donald."

I called to him softly.

"Hm?"

He turned.

"I'm sorry."

His hands stilled over the pasta. He turned around and looked at me, serious.

"You haven't done anything to be sorry for."

"Forgetting the past isn't your fault."

"But I fell in love with someone else."

That was what I owed him.

Donald's eyes darkened, like ink spilled across them.

He was quiet for a moment, then his voice came low.

"And now?"

"Do you still love him?"

I shook my head.

"No. Not anymore."

"The moment I knew he'd been lying to me, it was gone."

Love is a strange thing. It takes so long to build, and it collapses in a single instant.

He seemed to let out a breath.

The pasta was ready soon, a pretty poached egg nestled on top.

He set the bowl in front of me.

"Eat up. Get some rest after. I've got the guest room ready."

The guest room.

Those two words were like a thorn in my chest.

We were husband and wife, and yet we would sleep in separate rooms.

I had become a guest in this home.

I bowed my head and ate, tears falling one by one into the bowl.

Salty.

When I finished, I tried to grab the dishes to wash them, but he stopped me.

"I'll do it."

He caught my hand and steered me out of the kitchen.

I stood in the living room, looking at this home that was both familiar and strange, and a tangle of feelings rose in me.

Our wedding photo still hung on the wall.

In it I was beaming, tucked against his side, my eyes full of nothing but him.

And he was looking at the camera, with a tenderness and doting in his eyes I had never seen.

Liam had seen this photo once.

He'd asked me who it was.

I told him it was my brother.

Liam even laughed and said, your brother's really handsome.

Thinking about it now, it was almost cruel.

I walked into the guest room he'd mentioned, and sure enough it was spotless.

The sheets and duvet cover were new, carrying the smell of sunlight.

In the bathroom, even the toiletries were the kind meant for women.

He was always this thoughtful.

After my shower I came out in my pajamas and, without quite knowing why, drifted to the door of the master bedroom.

The door wasn't shut all the way. A crack of it stood open.

I saw Donald sitting on the edge of the bed, a picture frame in his hands.

It was our wedding photo.

He was tracing my face in the photo with the pad of his thumb, his eyes sad and full of longing.

My heart felt like it was clenched in a huge fist, so tight I couldn't breathe.

I pushed the door open.

"Donald."

He startled and hurriedly hid the frame behind his back, like a child caught doing something wrong.

"What is it? Can't settle in?"

I walked over to him, crouched down, and looked up at his face.

"Can I sleep with you?"

The moment I said it, my cheeks burned.

His throat bobbed, and his breathing came unsteady.

"Carly, do you know what you're saying?"

His voice was rough.

"I know."

I looked into his eyes, word by word.

"Donald, I want to get to know you again."

"And I want you to get to know me again too."

In the end, Donald still said no.

He pressed me down onto the guest bed and tucked the covers around me, gentle but leaving no room to argue.

"Go to sleep."

He pressed the lightest kiss to my forehead, soft as a feather brushing past.

"Don't let your mind run away with you."

Then he turned and walked out, thoughtfully pulling the door shut for me.

I lay in the dark with my eyes open, and I didn't sleep all night.

I could feel it. He was afraid.

Afraid I was only acting on impulse, afraid I would hurt him again.

Three years is long enough to change a great many things.

Including a person's love, and what they let themselves hope for.

The next morning I got up early, thinking I'd make him breakfast.

Turned out he'd woken even earlier. Breakfast was already on the table.

A sandwich, warm milk, and the fried egg I liked.

He sat by the table in a crisp suit, reading the financial news.

When he saw me come out, he looked up.

"You're up? Come eat."

As if we were the most ordinary married couple in the world.

After we ate, he drove me.

"Where to?"

"Back to my old company. I have to hand in my resignation."

Liam had pulled some strings to get me that job. Easy work, low pay.

Looking back now, all he'd wanted was to keep me caged.

"All right."

Donald didn't ask more.

When we reached the building, he handed me a black card.

"The PIN is your birthday."

"Don't go without on my account."

I didn't take it.

"Donald, I'm not your kept bird."

"I have two hands and two feet. I can support myself."

He looked at me, something complicated in his eyes.

"That's not what I meant."

"I just want to make it up to you."

"You don't owe me anything."

I pushed the card back. "If you really want to make it up to me, find me a job."

"I want to join your company."

He froze.

"Our company is exhausting."

"I'm not afraid of hard work."

I met his eyes, steady as could be. "I want to stand beside you, not hide behind you."

He studied me for a long moment, then finally nodded.

"Come in this afternoon to sign the papers. I'll have HR reach out to you."

I pushed the door open and got out, feeling strength surge through me.

Walking back into my old company, my coworkers all looked at me strangely.

Whispers, pointed fingers.

I didn't let it bother me. I went straight to the manager's office.

I handed over my resignation letter.

The manager was a man in his forties, and he'd taken plenty of favors from Liam over the years.

He glanced at the letter, a smile that wasn't a smile on his face.

"Carly, you sure about this? Jobs aren't easy to come by right now."

"Did you and Liam have a falling-out? A little lovers' spat, that's all. You'll patch it up."

"There's nothing between him and me anymore."

My tone stayed flat. "Please just approve it as soon as you can."

"Nothing anymore?"

The manager looked like he'd heard the joke of the century. "You dumped Liam and think you can find someone better? Don't be naive."

He tossed the letter onto the desk and leaned back.

"You can go, sure. But finish the project you're on first."

"Otherwise, forget the reference letter. You won't see this month's paycheck either."

The project he meant was the worst mess in the company. Whoever took it was doomed.

Another coworker had been running it before, made a blunder, then dumped the blame squarely on me.

Liam had taken that coworker's side back then, telling me to "be the bigger person."

Now they wanted to run the same play again.

I smiled.

"Fine."

I pulled out my phone and opened the voice recorder.

"Could you say all that again?"

"Docking my pay, forcing me to do work outside my job description, threatening to withhold my reference letter."

"I think the labor board would be very happy to hear it."

The manager's face went green on the spot.

"You you dare threaten me?"

"I'm only protecting my legal rights."

I put the phone away. "Are you signing it or not?"

He glared at me, and forced a few words out through his teeth.

"You win, you ruthless little"

He picked up his pen and signed the resignation letter, seething.

Letter in hand, signed, I turned and left.

At the door, a female coworker blocked my way.

The one who'd pinned the blame on me before.

Her face was full of gloating.

"Carly, don't get too pleased with yourself."

"You think you can still make it in this industry after crossing the manager?"

"Liam's done with you. Let's see how you manage now!"

I looked at her face, twisted with jealousy, and found it laughable.

"How I manage is none of your concern."

"You should worry about yourself first."

I gave the phone in my hand a little wave. "The proof of you pinning that blame on me? I've still got all of it."

Her face went white and her mouth snapped shut.

I walked out without looking back.

From today on, I was no longer the Carly anyone could push around.

That afternoon I got the call from HR at Donald's company, and my hire went through smoothly.

The position was his executive assistant.

I knew this was the back door he'd opened for me.

But I accepted it without flinching.

It was what I deserved.

When I walked into Donald's office, he was in a video conference.

All English, blistering pace, discussing a merger worth tens of millions of dollars.

He saw me, gave me a nod, and gestured for me to sit.

I sat on the couch and watched him command the room, and it left me a little dazed.

This was the real him.

Decisive, commanding, brilliant.

And Liam wasn't fit to shine his shoes.

When the meeting ended, he came over and poured me a glass of water.

"First day. How does it feel?"

"A little like a dream."

I told him the truth.

He smiled.

"You'll get used to it."

He handed me a file. "These are some of the company's recent projects. Get familiar with them first."

I took it and started reading carefully.

They were all fields I'd never touched before, and my head spun trying to make sense of them.

But I didn't back down.

I chewed through it word by word, looking up anything I didn't understand online.

I was still at it long past quitting time, after everyone else in the office had gone.

"Still not leaving?"

Donald had come to stand behind me, I didn't know when.

"Almost done."

I didn't look up.

He pulled the file out of my hands.

"Read it at home."

"We're eating out tonight."

"Where?"

"Somewhere that might jog a memory or two."