Chapter 2

Julian left with Chloe.

Before walking out the door, he tossed a black credit card onto the table like he was tipping a beggar.

"Go buy yourself something nice. Wipe that miserable look off your face. It's depressing to look at."

I stared down at the card. My mind dragged me back to years ago, when he earned his very first paycheck and shoved an envelope of cash into my hands just like this.

Back then, his eyes were shining bright, and he swore to me with complete conviction, "Nora, I'm going to take care of you forever."

Now, he was taking care of me. Just like an owner feeding a caged bird.

The only difference was that the birds outside got his warmth and adoration.

All I got was his charity.

I hired a lawyer to draft a fresh divorce agreement.

The attorney was young, sporting gold-rimmed glasses and a sharp, tailored suit.

"Ms. Vance, according to state law, you are entitled to a substantial portion of Mr. Vance's marital assets."

He slid a folder across the desk toward me.

"This is the initial draft. If you wish, I will fight aggressively to secure far more for you."

Without even glancing at the numbers, I flipped straight to the final page and signed my name.

"No need. I only want what is rightfully mine. The basics are enough."

The lawyer blinked, caught off guard. "Doing this puts you at a significant financial disadvantage."

I offered a faint smile. "Better than staying in a marriage that's killing me."

He studied me, his eyes softening with unspoken sympathy. "Ms. Vance, you and Mr. Vance..."

"It's been seven years. It's time to wake up," I interrupted softly, sliding the signed document back to him. "Please process this as quickly as possible. I don't have much time."

The last sentence was barely a whisper, meant more for myself than for him.

Leaving the law firm, I took a cab straight to the cemetery.

My mother was buried there. When she passed, the only thing she worried about was leaving me alone.

*Nora, after I'm gone, all I want is for you to be safe and happy.*

I traced the cold stone of her headstone. In the photograph, my mother was smiling warmly.

"Mom... I think I let you down."

"Ever since you left, I haven't been safe. And I haven't been happy."

I stayed by her grave until the sun slipped completely beneath the horizon.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Julian.

This was the first time this entire month he had actually reached out to call me first.

"There's a charity gala tonight, and I need a date. Get yourself dressed up. I'll have the driver pick you up at seven."

It was an order. Cold, practical, and businesslike, exactly as always.

"No. I'm not feeling well," I replied, my voice completely devoid of energy.

Silence stretched across the line for a few beats, followed by a harsh, mocking scoff.

"Nora, you've really been acting out lately. Are you seriously still throwing a tantrum over what Chloe did?"

"I told you, she's practically a kid. Why are you making such a big deal out of nothing?"

See? That was Julian.

Always pointing the finger at me. Always deciding that my pain was just me being hysterical.

"Julian," I took a steady breath. "I told you. Let's get a divorce."

"What did you just say?" His tone shot through the roof.

"I already printed and signed the divorce papers. All you have to do is put your name on them."

"Nora Vance! Are you out of your—"

I hung up on him. For the first time in seven years, I ended the call before he could.

Julian drove back to the house that very night.

When he kicked the front door open, I was in the middle of packing my suitcase.

"What kind of drama are you staging now?" He violently ripped the suitcase out of my hands. "A divorce? Over a stupid prank Chloe pulled?"

I looked at his bloodshot eyes, smelling the heavy stench of alcohol on his breath, and a deep wave of exhaustion washed over me.

"Julian, the problems between us have never been about any single girl."

"Then what the hell is it about?" He leaned in, crowding me against the wall. "Tell me!"

What was it about?

It was about him taking everything for granted. It was about him looking straight through me, blind to my suffering.

But what was the point of saying any of that now?

You can't wake up a man who is pretending to be asleep.

"Let's just say I'm sick of it," I said, too tired to argue.

"It's been seven years, Julian. I'm done."

That sentence completely set him off. He shoved me hard against the wooden wardrobe.

"Done? Nora Vance, who the hell do you think you are to be done?"

"Do you have any idea how many women out there are dying to take your place as Mrs. Vance?"

"I gave you the best life money could buy! What else could you possibly want?"

The best life?

Guarding an empty house while watching him parade around with other women?

Choking down agonizing stomach pain while listening to him tell me how difficult I was?

I laughed. And as I laughed, tears finally spilled over my eyelashes.

"Julian... do you even remember what day it was when your secretary played that little prank?"