Chapter 3

As I drove out of the parking garage, James called. It was the fourth day after we filed for divorce. I picked up.

"Did you hear about Rivergate?" he asked.

"David brought me up to speed," I replied.

"Charles jacked up our price by 12%."

"Yeah."

"They never charged us rates like that in the past six years."

I pulled over to the curb so I wouldn't be distracted while driving. "James, what are you getting at?"

He went quiet for a moment. "You go and put in a good word with Charles."

"Why should I?"

"It's a standard renewal. That's how we've always done it."

"I was willing to do it back then."

His breathing turned heavier. "Susan, it's a simple phone call."

"Tell David to negotiate through proper channels."

"If he could pull it off, why would I be calling you?"

Once those words left his mouth, both ends went dead quiet.

I stared out the window at the red light. On the crosswalk, a girl holding an umbrella was chasing after a bus, her heel splashing into a puddle, nearly making her slip.

The light turned green, and I put the car back in gear. "That goes to show he still has a lot to learn."

"Do you really have to draw such a sharp line in the sand?"

"Yes."

"We still have 26 days left to formalize our divorce."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Are you really in that much of a rush to cut ties with me?"

I kept my tone steady, hands tight on the steering wheel. "Just because the paperwork isn't finalized doesn't mean I have to keep doing free labor for your company."

James didn't say anything.

I heard a knock on the door at his end. Emily's voice was soft but came through loud and clear. "Mr. Harper, the Starbright team is here."

He covered the phone and lowered his voice. "Tell them to give me five minutes."

A moment later, he spoke back into the phone. "Come home tonight. We need to talk."

"Just say it here."

"We still have to split up our things."

"I'll swing by this weekend to grab them."

"Susan." His tone softened. "Now that we've come this far, I don't want us to end things on a bad note."

"Neither do I."

"Then what do you call what you're doing right now?"

Emily's voice came through the line again, reminding him about the meeting.

I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "Mr. Harper, your clients are waiting. Get back to work." I hung up.

*****

Over the next few days, similar issues started popping up left and right.

Starlane changed the ad placements they had verbally confirmed for fixed schedule contracts.

A hardware supplier we had partnered with for years cancelled HarperTech's priority production slot.

A media outlet insisted that interview requests be booked a week in advance and no longer accepting last-minute topic changes on the day of the shoot.

Each thing was minor on its own. Everyone was playing strictly by the book.

HarperTech didn't come to a grinding halt simply because I had stepped back. It was only all those headaches I'd quietly fixed before that started coming to the surface.

*****

On Saturday morning, I went back to the villa to fetch my things.

The moment I opened the door, I spotted a pair of white ankle boots sitting at the entryway.

There were two cups of coffee sitting on the coffee table in the living room.

Emily caught sight of me coming in as she stepped out of the study, taken aback. She was wearing a light blue dress shirt, holding her laptop. "Susan."

I gave her a brief nod.

James walked out right behind her. "She's here to pick up some project files."

I didn't bother asking. "Carry on. I'm here to grab my things."

I headed upstairs. The bedroom was left exactly as it was the day I walked out. The book I hadn't finished was still sitting on the nightstand. A few daily skincare products were missing from the vanity, but everything else remained untouched.

I pulled out a suitcase and began packing my clothes by season.

James leaned against the doorframe, watching me for a long while. "Are you really planning on moving out?"

"I already did," I replied.

"To that apartment?"

"Yeah."

"How long has it been?"

I looked up at him. "Does it even matter?"

He pressed his lips together.

Right then, my phone rang.

The head of a consumer brand I had previously partnered with asked if I had time next week to touch base on a new project.

I glanced at my calendar and set up a meeting for Wednesday afternoon.

James didn't leave. After I hung up, he asked, "Who was that?"

"Work."

"You've been taking on projects lately?"

"I'm considering it."

"You couldn't care less about HarperTech, yet you somehow have time for other people's business."

The remark sounded absurd. I neatly stacked a bundle of clothes into the suitcase. "Because other people actually pay consulting fees."

James' face froze.

From the study, I heard Emily calling his name.

He stood there for a few seconds, then turned and walked out.

Halfway through packing, a clear plastic hospital medicine bag slid out from the bottom drawer of the nightstand. There were still two painkillers left inside.

I bent down and picked it up. The date stamped on the bag was from two months ago.

I hadn't given much thought to most of what happened that day lately.

But seeing that string of numbers suddenly brought back the nurse's question while I was signing the surgery consent form. "When will your family get here?"

I had glanced at my phone back then. There were 17 missed calls, and every one of them was made to James.

I slipped the medicine bag into my purse instead of throwing it away.