At three in the afternoon, Nina Walsh stepped into Crestfall's largest aromatherapy boutique.
Aiden Sinclair suffered from intermittent insomnia. He had once said that her natural scent was a great sleep aid.
Today was their second wedding anniversary, so Nina Walsh had a custom scent made, using a special method to infuse her own personal scent into the blend.
After much deliberation, Nina Walsh still chose to trust Aiden Sinclair.
In the past two years, she had seen so many beautiful women throw themselves at him, but he had never crossed the line. 'This time will be no different. It has to be a misunderstanding. I'll just ask him about it tonight to clear the air. And it'll be the perfect time to tell him I'm pregnant.'
"Hello, I'm here to pick up the custom scent I ordered."
Nina Walsh gave her name and phone number. A staff member brought out a gift box printed with red wild roses from the back. Even the gift box itself was a surprise designed by Nina, just so Aiden Sinclair could see how much she cared.
"This is it."
Nina Walsh confirmed it was the one and took a black card from her bag to pay.
"I'll take this."
An identical black card was held out.
"Miss, I'm the one who ordered this."
Nina Walsh turned around. The woman took off her sunglasses, revealing a stunningly glamorous face.
The two women looked at the black cards in each other's hands. On both was Aiden Sinclair's flamboyant signature.
Clara Jacobs sneered, "Stealing your master's black card... isn't that a crime?"
"Don't make baseless accusations. I didn't steal anything."
Unwilling to argue further, Nina Walsh gestured for the sales clerk to ring her up.
The sales clerk looked at the two identical cards in their hands, then at their attire. One was dripping with jewels, the other plain and unadorned. Who looked more like the card's owner?
The clerk didn't dare take Nina Walsh's card. Nina gave up and was about to pay with her phone when two police officers suddenly stepped forward and grabbed her hands.
"Miss, we've received a report accusing you of theft. Please come with us."
The arrival of the police drew a crowd of onlookers, their curious and contemptuous gazes all fixed on Nina Walsh.
Furious, Nina Walsh struggled out of the officers' grip. "Let go of me! What evidence do you have that I stole anything?"
Clara Jacobs said, "Officers, I'm the one who called you. This woman is a nanny my boyfriend hired. The bank card in her hand belongs to my boyfriend."
"I didn't steal it, he gave it to me!" Nina Walsh shouted.
The officer glanced at the two cards. "In that case, call your employer. We need to verify this."
Nina Walsh rummaged through her canvas bag for her phone and dialed the number for Aiden Sinclair's assistant. After a few rings, the assistant, Jay Keane, answered.
"I need to speak to Aiden Sinclair."
"Mr. Sinclair is in a meeting and unavailable right now. Is there something I can help you with, Miss Walsh?"
Just as Jay Keane's professional voice came through the line, Clara Jacobs, holding her own phone, said, "Aiden, I've run into a bit of trouble at Skyscape Plaza. Can you come over? Mm, okay. I'll be waiting."
Nina Walsh hung up, her expression frozen.
Clara Jacobs turned to the police. "My boyfriend will be here in ten minutes. I'd appreciate it if you could wait."
Ten minutes passed in a flash. Aiden Sinclair stood amidst the crowd, head and shoulders above the rest, drawing gasps of admiration.
"Aiden, you're here."
Clara Jacobs went to him and linked her arm through Aiden Sinclair's.
Aiden Sinclair raised his eyes and met the resentful gaze from the back of the crowd. His face was devoid of any emotion; he didn't even spare Nina Walsh a second glance.
"Sir, your girlfriend is accusing this woman of stealing your card."
Aiden Sinclair took the card from the officer's hand. "This is indeed my card."
And then, nothing more.
Clara Jacobs immediately jumped in, "See? She did steal it."
Nina Walsh stood frozen, her eyes fixed on their linked arms. He didn't pull away, nor did he deny it.
'Clara Jacobs is his girlfriend? Then what am I?'
Aiden Sinclair pocketed the card but didn't vouch for Nina Walsh, watching impassively as the police led her away to the station to give a statement.
"Start talking! Besides that card, what else did you steal?"
The officer interrogated her again and again. Nina Walsh's head swam, and a dull ache started in her lower abdomen.
"Officer, my stomach hurts."
"Stop playing the victim. This is a police station; we don't fall for that routine. Now, start talking," the officer said, tapping his fingers incessantly on the table.
Nina Walsh's face was deathly pale, with large beads of sweat on her forehead. Just as she was about to collapse, Jay Keane appeared and led her out.
"Miss Sinclair, please get in the car. I'll take you back to the villa."
As Aiden Sinclair's most trusted assistant, Jay Keane was the only one who knew that she and Aiden were married.
Leaning against the wall, Nina Walsh asked, "Is he home?"
Jay Keane repeated mechanically, "Mr. Sinclair instructed me to take you back to the villa."
Nina Walsh turned her head and dragged her heavy feet away, steadying herself against the wall as she went.
Jay Keane dialed Aiden Sinclair's number. "Mr. Sinclair, Miss Walsh refuses to get in the car."
"Yes, Mr. Sinclair." Jay Keane hung up and drove away.
Nina Walsh watched the car drive off, a bitter smile touching her lips.
'What was she even hoping for?'
...
At 11:59 PM, Nina Walsh stepped into Nirvana Bar.
The bar was buzzing with noise; they were having a party to celebrate something.
In a booth near the stage, Aiden Sinclair sat with his legs crossed like a king, the dim lighting unable to hide his dazzling aura.
And nestled beside him was Clara Jacobs, a glaring sight.
Nina Walsh walked straight up to him, held out the gift she had prepared, and said as if no one else existed:
"Aiden, happy second wedding anniversary. This is the gift I got for you."
The music screeched to a halt. Everyone stared at Nina Walsh as if she were a freak.
Someone laughed. "Second wedding anniversary? HAHAHAHA. Are girls these days all this crazy? Isn't calling him 'hubby' online enough? Now they're showing up in person with anniversary gifts? Mr. Sinclair's charm is truly unstoppable."
Others joined in the laughter. Someone patted Clara Jacobs on the shoulder, then sneered at Nina Walsh, "Where did this delusional fangirl come from? Can't you see the real queen is sitting right here?"
All sorts of gazes swirled around Nina Walsh, but she ignored them, looking at Aiden Sinclair with hopeful expectation.
Aiden Sinclair's complexion was cool and pale. With a simple press of his thin lips, he easily projected an image of heartlessness.
He glanced at his watch. "Twenty seconds to spare. You broke the rules."
With a flick of his hand, he swatted the gift from Nina Walsh's grasp, sending it clattering to the floor.
"We're over."
The room fell silent again as everyone stared at Aiden Sinclair in disbelief.
Nina Walsh looked down at the gift on the floor, suppressing the stabbing pain in her heart. After a few seconds, she stood up and took a document from her bag.
"Aiden Sinclair. Divorce papers. Sign them."
Aiden Sinclair stared at her. Nina Walsh threw the papers and a pen at him, suddenly a porcupine with all its quills raised. Her voice jumped an octave. "Sign them now!"
Aiden Sinclair tossed the papers aside as if they were trash.
"No need to sign. The certificate was fake. We were never married."
The words struck Nina Walsh like a bolt from the blue. Her mind went blank for a moment. Biting her lip, she swung her hand at Aiden Sinclair's face.
Aiden Sinclair raised a hand and easily blocked her. "Two years of sleeping with you, and I'm bored. How much money do you want? Name your price."
Their eyes met. Aiden Sinclair's were filled with nothing but mockery and heartless cruelty.
"Aiden Sinclair, you'll get what's coming to you."
Leaving behind a threat that held no power, Nina Walsh made a miserable retreat.