<b>Chapter </b><b>3 </b>


    My bestie Harper had to bail me out after three days in county.


    <b>“</b>Girl, what the actual hell? I’ve never seen Camdene for you this hard.”


    I stared out at the palm trees blurring past. “His little chef’s probably getting antsy. Wants him to stop wasting time on the legal wife.”


    Harper went quiet for a beat. “Maybe he’s just having some midlife crisis thing? You know how tech bros get when they hit their Saturn return.”


    “Harp, they’ve been together five years. That’s not a phase, that’s a whole–ass rtionship.”


    She didn’t have aeback for that.


    “Look, everyone’s meeting at Soho House tonight. Camden’s gonna be there too. Maybe you guys can actually hash this out like grown–ups instead of whatever Jerry Springer nonsense this has be.”


    I told her I’d rather get a root canal.


    She sighed like I was her most exhausting client. “Sage, stop being such a stubborn bitch. What’s your endgame here? Really?”


    That question hit different.


    Finally, she dragged me to West Hollywood anyway. The private dining room at Soho House had that dim, exclusive vibe where tech moguls went to pretend they were still cool.


    When we got there, the door was cracked open just enough for me to hear Camden holding court with his usual crew of venture capitalists and crypto bros.


    “Dude, you actually had your wife arrested? That’s some next–level rtionship drama right there.”


    “Sage has been pulling this psycho ex routine for five straight years. Girl’s got seriousmitment to the bit.”


    After a pause, someone actually defended me: “Come on, Cam. Sage literally gave up her family’s entire empire for you. Don’t you think the restraining order’s a bit much?”


    Camden was manspreading in one of those overpriced mid–century chairs;


    <b>“</b>Trust me, I’m being generouspared to what I could do. One word from me and she’d be cklisted from every country club between here and the Hamptons.”


    “But seriously, bro, what’s so special about this Vera girl? You and Sage have been ride–or–die since Stanford. How do you just ghost fifteen years?”


    <b>13:25 </b>


    <b>Hell </b>Yeah, Forget the Other Woman, My Smart House Was Cheating On Me!!


    <b>28.2</b><b>% </b>


    “It’splicated.”


    Camden opened his eyes and pulled out his vape.


    “Sage is… she’s incredible. Like genuinely brilliant. Forbes 30 Under 30, Harvard MBA, can out–negotiate half the sharks on Sand Hill Road.”


    One of the crypto guys looked confused. “So why are you trading down for some food blogger?”


    “That’s exactly the problem.”


    Camden’s voice got edge.


    “Being with Sage is like being married to my LinkedIn profile. She keeps up with everything–helicopter skiing in Aspen, Form One in Monaco, closing deals with Sequoia. Half the time she’s better at my job than I am.”


    He blew out a cloud of vapor.


    “I don’t want a business partner with benefits. I want someone who makes me feel like a man, not like half of some power couple brand. Vera worries when I work toote. She actually cooks real food instead of ordering from Postmates. She cries when I get stressed instead of suggesting I pivot my mindset.”


    My blood turned to ice water.


    So that was my crime. Being too sessful. Too independent. Too… much.


    God, what a fucking joke.


    I started to back away when his next words stopped me cold.


    “Instead of ying therapist, why don’t you help me convince her to sign the papers? This whole thing’s getting embarrassing.”