
1.2 K readers · 11 chapters · 3 free
Rumor had it all over Belleridge: Charlotte Foster was a saint. She never raised her voice, never threw tantrums, and didn't shed a single tear when her husband paraded another woman around. Year after year, she was lingering in the secluded courtyard of the Foster estate, quiet and breathtaking, like a delicate watercolor portrait. Richard loved her, though always on his own terms. Whenever his mistress wanted a designer bag, Charlotte received the deed to a flagship store. When his mistress wanted fireworks, Charlotte got a private buyout of an entire sprawling amusement park. On Christmas Eve, he would fly back from abroad in the dead of night to kiss her forehead and whisper, "Happy New Year." Everyone assumed she was resigned to her gilded cage, trapped by her own devotion. Then she served him the divorce papers and walked away without looking back, leaving the entire city in disbelief. As it turned out, she was the one who let go.