The invitation came in the form of a passing comment.
"We're having a small get-together Friday. Just some partners and friends," Cole said without looking up from his tablet. "Don't wear anything too loud."
Jade blinked. "You… want me to come?"
He paused.
"It would look weird if you didn't."
That was all.
Not "I want you there." Not "It'll be nice to introduce you." Just… obligation.
Still, she held onto the scraps. Maybe, just maybe, if she dressed well and smiled enough, he'd remember the girl he once complimented.
The girl he'd once called lovely.
She wore a soft mauve maternity dress that draped over her bump with gentle elegance. Simple earrings.
Light perfume.
No lipstick, Cole hated red.
When she stepped into the living room of the rented penthouse, the laughter stopped briefly.
Conversations dipped in volume. Eyes flickered her way, some amused, some pitying, none warm.
And then—
"Wow," someone whispered with a laugh. "He really brought her here."
Vivien, of course.
She held a wine glass like it was a trophy and smiled like a cat in a birdcage.
Jade forced a smile and walked toward Cole, who stood near the fireplace, surrounded by three men in expensive suits.
When he saw her approach, he gave her a nod, cold, detached.
No hand on the small of her back. No introduction. Nothing.
Vivien took Jade's arm lightly. "Let me introduce you to the rest. Everyone's so curious."
Jade followed obediently.
She met lawyers who only asked her what Cole saw in her.
Wives who looked her up and down and whispered behind their glasses.
Colleagues who mistook her for a secretary.
Someone even asked if she was the nanny.
But the worst came when dinner was served.
She sat beside Cole, the only time that night he allowed her near.
One of the senior partners lifted his glass. "To Cole, sharpest dealmaker this side of Ontario. And to his… lovely bride, who I'm sure is just as clever with—well, whatever it is she does."
Laughter.
Cole didn't stop it.
He didn't say a word.
Jade's hand tightened around her fork, but her voice stayed trapped in her throat.
She swallowed it all with the bite of cold salmon on her plate.
After dessert, Vivien approached again.
She leaned in, her voice a blade wrapped in sugar.
"You should really stop trying so hard, Jade. Being a trophy wife only works if you're actually shiny."
Jade smiled, so brittle it nearly cracked her teeth.
"If I'm a trophy, Vivien, I must've won something. What did you get? A participation ribbon?"
Vivien blinked. Her mouth opened in disbelief.
Cole heard it. Jade knew he did.
He looked over at them with something unreadable in his eyes.
And then—he walked away.
Not to defend her. Not to scold her. Just… away.
That night, Jade stood in front of the bathroom mirror, peeling off her earrings like they weighed ten pounds each.
The silence in the apartment was heavier than the stares at that party.
She looked at herself, at the circles under her eyes, the sadness in her smile, the dress that used to make her feel beautiful.
She touched her stomach gently.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to her unborn child. "I'm trying. I really am."
But she was beginning to feel like the ghost of someone who used to be loved.