Page 7 of The Good Billionaire

Thank you, Tristan...

CHAPTER FOUR

Kennedy

What the hell am I doing?

I had cried through hours of therapy, alone, assuming my leaving was irrational just because Sebastian worked a lot. Finding out, I wasn’t completely off the wall, and knowing he’d never change, I then cried to a lawyer and asked for a basic divorce with a third party appointed to divide the assets.

Since there was, well, a lot of money at stake.

Seb’s father Charles Hart had handed me and Seb close to a billion dollars of The Sterling’s investment capital. Every account some financial planner opened up to spread that money around had my name on it. I’d said it didn’t feel right, but Seb had looked at me like I was insane.

He really never thought we’d break up. But that made him complacent thinking we were so damn bulletproof. His money looked the furthest from his mind as he strutted over with two coffees and my favorite cupcake.

“My teeth hurt looking at that sugar frosting.” The thick layer of icing doubled the size of the monster cupcake. “And thank you.” I took the coffee from him.

“No need to thank me. What’s mine is yours. I always said that.” He took a spoon and tunneled out some frosting.

Wearing a devilish smile, he dropped the spoon and dipped his finger in the whipped-up swirl instead. Bringing it to my mouth, he drawled, “You know you want it.”

Seb? Yes. Of course, I wanted him. I loved him and despite being with him for ten years, I was still so damn attracted to him.Painfully so. My body hurt wanting him to hold me. But when the loneliness soared, my pleas for him to scale back his patient-load had been ignored.

Figuring what the hell, I licked the whipped cream off his finger, a fire rising up in his green eyesanddeep down in my core.

I shouldn’t have had to leave to get his attention. And no way would I have done something so serious as a bluff. Him not prioritizing me over his work told me that despite loving me, he loved his job a little more.

Loved thelimelighta little more.

“How’s Cal?” he asked me.

Case in point. Always thinking of his patients, even after I just sucked on his finger.

Sebastian Hart was therealGood Doctor. And I felt like shit for hating him for it. “The nurses at Mercy are kick ass. He’s being taken care of.”

Nodding, Seb sipped his coffee.

“How’s the new surgery center out west?” I asked.

His eyes turned sad. He’d not waited for me after all. He opened up another center and from what I’d heard through the grapevine, he planned to practice out there for a year to make sure it ran to his standard of excellence.

Last nail, meet coffin.

“Ribbon cutting on Jan one.” He put down the cup and picked at crumbs from the cupcake I now devoured despite needing to squeeze into a skin-tight bridesmaid dress in a week. “Ward’s staying in the townhouse. Just easier. I grabbed an Airbnb.”

“Right.”

“Do I have to say it, Kennedy? Come with me.”

“Quit my job and follow you?”

“You’re an anesthesiologist. You can work anywhere. You think that makes you dispensable or replaceable, but it gives you flexibility, andthatgives you power. Wasn’t that the plan for when we had kids?”

“You have to be home to make those kids, Seb.” Ihadlived a very scheduled life being a surgical anesthesiologist. Only, I’d come home every night to an empty townhouse. Woke up to grunting in the second bedroom, Seb running on the treadmill covered in glistening sweat.

Instead of makingmesweat with his cock the way we used to enjoy morning sex. I’d felt forgotten about.

He threw down his napkin. “You know the last two years have been crazy because I had to keep going out west to operate.”

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