Andrew Talbot

‚The Wrong Side‘ I still remember the exact moment my marriage ended. Not when I filed for divorce. Not when Theo started calling me every five minutes. And certainly not when his publicist released a carefully worded statement asking for privacy. It ended when I opened my phone and saw the photographs. Theo. On his yacht, somewhere in the Mediterranean. Wrapped around a person who definitely wasn’t me. The same week he was supposed to be attending a business panel in Europe. By noon, the pictures were everywhere. By evening, our marriage was front-page news. Theodore Rutherford had spent years building the image of the perfect husband. It took less than twenty-four hours to destroy it. Three months later, I found myself sitting in a conference room, waiting for the divorce proceedings to begin. My lawyer sat beside me. Theo sat across from me. Still handsome. Still composed. Still looking mildly inconvenienced by a disaster of his own making. The meeting began. Six years together. Reduced to paperwork. Efficient. Professional. Almost impressive, really. But what bothered me the most was Andrew Talbot. He looked exactly like the kind of lawyer someone like Theo would hire. Tailored navy suit. Perfect posture. Calm. Collected. Completely unreadable. Wonderful. The last thing I needed was a man whose job was protecting Theodore Rutherford. Andrew glanced up from the documents in front of him. Our eyes met briefly. Long enough for something uncomfortable to settle in my chest. No. Absolutely not. There were eight billion people on this planet. Surely I could get through this without paying attention to someone on the wrong side.