Chapter 2

The next morning, Lucius didn't come home.

The wedding suite sat exactly as it had been prepared.

Champagne on ice, now flat. Rose petals scattered across the bed, now wilting. The air still faintly sweet with gardenias.

I called a real estate agent before noon.

"I need it sold quickly," I said.

"Are you sure, Miss Ashford? This property just closed escrow three months ago—"

"I'm sure."

I hung up and started packing.

He showed up around four.

Still in yesterday's suit, tie loosened, shadows carved beneath his eyes.

"Nora, I'm sorry. Vivian asked me to apologize for her. She didn't mean to cause trouble yesterday."

"Can't she apologize herself?"

He hesitated. "She's still weak..."

"Lucius. About us. About the wedding." I set down the dress I was folding.

"How do you plan to explain this to three hundred guests?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. Quiet for a moment.

"Let some time pass. When things calm down, we'll hold another ceremony."

Reschedule.

I repeated the word in my head like it tasted strange.

"You think this is something you reschedule?" I said.

"Like a dentist appointment?"

"Then what the hell do you want from me, Nora?" His voice sharpened.

"It's done. I can't undo it. Vivian almost flatlined on a table—and you're standing here making it about a damn party?"

"That's not fair."

"No," I said quietly. "It's not."

I stood up. Walked into the bedroom. Pulled a suitcase from the closet and started packing my things.

Lucius followed. "What are you doing?"

"I sold the house."

His face darkened. "You what?"

"You heard me."

"Nora Ashford, you're being irrational."

"I'm thinking clearly. And speaking clearly." I folded a sweater. Placed it in the suitcase.

"This isn't our home anymore."

He grabbed my wrist. "You can't sell it. This is our home."

"It stopped being a home the second you walked out on it for her."

Rage flared in his eyes.

"You're impossible."

His phone rang.

He answered, and his voice softened immediately.

"What's wrong? Another nightmare? Don't be scared. I'll be right there."

He hung up.

He looked at me with a flicker of impatience he didn't bother to hide.

"Nora, I have to go. Vivian's still fragile—her emotions are unstable. We'll finish this when I get back."

He reached for his keys.

"If you walk out that door," I said, "don't bother coming back."

He paused. Hand on the doorknob.

He turned. Looked at me.

And for a moment, I thought I saw something—hesitation. Or guilt.

Then his expression hardened.

"My patience has limits, Nora."

The door closed behind him.

I stood in the hallway, listening to his footsteps fade down the corridor.

I put the last piece of clothing into the suitcase and zipped it shut.

And I left.

I went back to my studio—a small converted loft downtown. Design workspace below, a narrow bedroom above.

I'd kept the lease even after moving in with Lucius.

Now I was grateful for it.

The first three days were quiet.

Lucius didn't call. I didn't call him.

The silence between us stretched like a wire pulled taut—vibrating with everything unsaid.

On the fourth day, Madam Hayes called and asked to meet.

She chose an upscale café near the Hayes estate. When I arrived, she was already seated. Posture perfect. Pearl earrings. A cup of tea she hadn't touched.

She slid an envelope across the table the moment I sat down.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

Inside was a check. Six figures. More zeros than I'd ever seen on a single piece of paper.

"Leave Lucius," she said.

"Take the money and move on."

I looked at the check. Then at her.

"Madam Hayes. This isn't about money."

"I know." She picked up her cup. Took a sip.

Her expression was perfectly calm. "You and my son have ten years of history. But Nora, you need to understand something."

She set the cup down.

"The Hayes family needs a wife who knows her role. A wife who supports her husband. Who steadies him. Who manages the demands of his position with grace."

She paused.

"Not a wife who makes scenes."

"So Vivian Chase manages those demands?"

"Vivian is simple. Kind. Her brother gave his life for Lucius—we owe her a debt that can never be repaid. Lucius protecting her is the right thing to do. As his wife, you should support that. Not fight him on it."

I understood then. Perfectly.

In their eyes, every ounce of my pain was an inconvenience.

A disruption to the smooth machinery of the Hayes family image.

I pushed the check back across the table.

"Keep your money. I don't want it. And I don't want Lucius, either."

I stood up.

"They deserve each other."

I walked out without looking back.

That evening, I blocked every Hayes family number in my phone.

The world fell quiet.

Like stepping out of a storm into still air.

That night, I slept ten hours straight for the first time in a decade.

I didn't dream of him.

I didn't dream of anything at all.