Chapter 4

I stood in the elevator of our Upper East Side building, my fingers clutching a small duffel bag filled with the essentials I couldn't leave behind. My wedding album wasn't among them. Neither were the expensive gifts Ryan had showered me with over the years. Just my grandmother's vintage jewelry, a few cherished photos of my parents, and my design portfolios—the dreams I'd set aside for a man who'd discarded me like yesterday's newspaper.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached our floor—no, his floor now. I stepped into the hallway, my heels clicking against the marble in a rhythm…