I smiled faintly, "It's nothing. I signed up for a tour group, but the weather caused a delay, so it's canceled."
He stared at me intently, trying to discern if I was lying. But seeing nothing suspicious in my expression, he relaxed and approached me slowly.
"Felicia, once we have the baby, how about a month-long family trip to Bali?" His tone softened and he even reached out as if to gently touch my stomach.
I discreetly stepped away and went to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water and said, "We'll talk about it later."
I glanced at the time. Normally, he would've left for work by now, but today, he lingered unusually long.
Hearing the indifference in my voice, his brows furrowed, "Didn't you always want to go to Bali?"
I had wanted to, wanted to go with the person I loved to witness its romance. But now, there was no need.
Besides, I could go wherever I wanted by myself. Before I could respond, the sound of a key turning the lock interrupted us.
Startled, I looked toward the door to see Louise, his secretary, standing there in a short, tight skirt, smiling sweetly at us, "Felicia, sorry to intrude. I saw that Mr. Angelo was running late, so I came to pick him up. You don't mind, right?"
My eyes fell on the key in her hand. It was the only spare key to our home.
I asked him, "Troy, you gave her the key?"
A hint of unease flashed across his face as he casually explained, "Louise is my secretary. Last time I left some documents at home and it was inconvenient for her to retrieve them, so I gave her a key. It's not a big deal, Felicia. We'll talk when I get back."
He shot Louise a look and the two of them left one after the other.
I chuckled bitterly to myself. I used to think his interest in her was just a fleeting attraction to her youth and beauty. But now, it seemed he was serious about her.
Later that afternoon, while sipping coffee, I received a call from a lawyer friend.
He told me the divorce agreement was ready and had been sent to my email for review. "Everything looks good. Thanks." I scanned it quickly, "Once I'm back in Chicago, dinner's on me."
His laugh came through the phone, "Thanks in advance, Miss Hoffman. Felicia, congratulations on your upcoming freedom. Come back soon."
A warm feeling stirred in my chest. Sebastian Curtis had been my closest friend since childhood. Six years ago, when I stayed in Houston for love, he had been the first to object.