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“Mrs. Carmichael it is then,” I say, and I let the memories fade. “‘Ma’am’ makes me think of my mother.”

I don’t want to think about how nice it sounds being called a name I wrote thousands of times. Even if this isn’t real. She nods quietly and she’s the model of professionalism, standing quietly and serenely.

When the elevator chimes I step off and she follows me. I wonder if I should text Wyatt to remove the bodyguard. I don’t need one. I’ve never had one before now and I don’t think she likes me. What has changed since Aiden and I split? Why does Wyatt suddenly have a need to be with me and to hire a bodyguard for me? I roll my eyes because I don’t want to let myself go there. He doesn’t need me, and this isn’t about me. It can’t be. I don’t know what his game is, but I’m not going to get hurt. I’m done hurting and I can’t do it anymore.

Maybe one time Wyatt had a crush on me, too, back before my eyes were opened to what my life was going to be like. I’m not the same girl I was back then and time has tainted me. I can’t stand myself some days, so how can I expect someone else to?

When I walk into the waiting area I see it’s empty. A woman I don’t recognize comes out from behind the counter. I know most of the staff since my mother loves this place and makes me come with her at least once a month for “maintenance” as she likes to call it. This place is more likely to cause wrinkles and gray hair, if you ask me. Everyone comes here to gossip and their maintenance only gives them a reason to do so. They don’t have to admit they’re just gossiping assholes and hypocrites.

The woman behind the counter smiles brightly at me. “Mrs. Carmichael?” she asks, and I can tell she’s extra perky.

“At this rate my father will know about this by the end of the day.” I look to my bodyguard whose name I still don’t know.

She doesn’t even acknowledge that I spoke to her and I look away from her. Why does that bother me so badly? I don’t want to talk to anyone and I want to be left alone, yet here I am getting hurt over the bodyguard not giving me the time of day.

The girl behind the desk looks confused and I take pity on her.

“That’s me,” I sigh.

At least no one is here to hear her. The whole city would have known in two seconds that I’m married again. Well, I guess not again, because the first was annulled.

“We’re ready for you.” She beams at me, more excited about this spa day than I am.

“I haven’t told you what I want.” I glance down at the list of spa services.

“Your husband already outlined your day.” The girl looks down at the clipboard she’s holding as if doubling-checking.

I’m not the least bit shocked that Wyatt planned out my day.

“Where is everyone?” The place is normally quiet, but it’s even more so right now. There are always people waiting for someone to cancel so they can steal an opening.

“You’re are the only client to be seen today. Mr. Carmichael booked out the whole spa for you so you could relax.” She says it in a dreamy voice.

“The whole spa?” I repeat.

A day here isn’t cheap, so I don’t want to know what the price tag is on taking up the whole place. My mother tried to book it for my wedding day. She wanted to have a big to-do, but it was really about making the day about her. I hadn’t cared because the fake wedding was always about our parents. I smirk when I remember how mad she was when they told her no.

“Of course Wyatt Carmichael can book the entire spa,” I laugh, wishing my mother knew.

I’d text her and use her own passive aggressive behavior against her, but then I’d have to talk to her.

“He’s a very generous man,” the girl simpers.

Jealousy like nothing I’ve ever felt shoots through me and I wonder what she means by that. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but either way, I don’t like the jolt of anger that courses through me.

“This way.” She motions down the hall and I follow her and try to get my shit together.

The bodyguard follows me, keeping a good distance away, but her eyes are either on me or checking her phone. I guess she’s reporting back to Wyatt, or maybe I’m secretly hoping that he’s checking in on me and she’s responding.

I’m shown to a back room where I get undressed and then put on my robe for the day. I decide to focus on what I’m here to do and that’s to relax and clear my head. I know it’s what I need most, so I’m going to make myself take advantage of it.

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