Chapter 2

Grace stepped inside and looked first at the divorce agreement, then at Jonathan.

"You really gave her the shares?" she asked.

Jonathan's jaw tightened. "Yes."

"And the savings?"

"Yes."

Grace narrowed her eyes. "Did you hand your brain over to that woman too?"

"Mom," Jonathan snapped.

Grace set the rolling pin on the shoe cabinet hard enough to make the keys jump.

"Don't call me Mom," she said. "I don't have a son who abandons his wife and child to chase after an old flame."

Jonathan held his temper for a moment before replying, "Claire had her reasons for leaving back then."

He straightened and continued, "She went abroad with Adam because she loved art and felt suffocated here. Now she understands what she wants and came back for me. I can't lose her again."

Grace laughed.

"She dumped you because she thought selling home goods was too commercial," Grace said. "Then she ran off with a rich guy who owned a gallery. Giving it a prettier explanation doesn't change what happened."

That hit exactly where it hurt.

When Claire was younger, she had built her entire image around being refined and detached from material things.

Jonathan had been building an e-commerce business selling home goods. Claire complained that calculating costs and discussing profits all day had covered his soul in price tags.

Adam Stone painted, held exhibitions, and took her traveling through Asteria. According to Claire, she had finally found someone who understood her.

Only later did I learn that Adam's family owned dozens of commercial properties and spent seven figures every year funding his artistic ambitions.

When wealthy people talked about art, apparently their paint smelled sweeter too.

Jonathan had been burned badly enough by that relationship to agree to a blind date arranged by his family.

Throughout our marriage, he never mentioned Claire, and I had no interest in digging through his romantic history.

Then Claire came back, and suddenly he was acting like the lovesick fool he'd been years ago.

"I gave up everything in the divorce," he said. "That proves Claire isn't after my money."

Jonathan looked at me with the pride of a man who thought he'd won.

I gave him a thumbs-up.

"Congratulations, champion of true love," I said. "The door's right there."

Jonathan dragged his suitcase away.

The moment the elevator doors closed, Grace turned and pulled me into her arms.

"Emily, I'm sorry you had to go through this," she murmured.

My nose stung.

She patted my back, but her voice remained firm.

"Keep the house and the money," Grace said. "Take good care of Mia. From now on, I'll live with you two."

She paused, then added, "As for that idiot, he's no son of mine until he gets his head out of his ass."

Mia ran out of her room and threw herself into Grace's arms.

Grace crouched and wiped her tears.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart," Grace said. "Daddy went out to get his brain repaired. If they can't fix it, we won't let him come back."

Mia considered that seriously.

"How long will it take?" she asked.

Grace sighed dramatically. "With the amount of damage he's got, probably until his next lifetime."

At last, Mia smiled.

That evening, the three of us made stuffed pasta together. Mia was in charge of sealing the edges, and eight out of every ten pieces fell apart.

Grace quietly put every ruined one into her own bowl.

Then she tried to push her bank card into my hand.

When I refused, she glared at me.

"It's for Mia, not you," Grace said. "You're only holding it for her."

I knew she was afraid I'd feel insecure after the divorce.

I pushed the card back, took a coin instead, and dropped it into Mia's piggy bank.

"We'll keep Grandma's love," I said. "Grandma can keep her money and buy herself pretty clothes."

Mia wrapped her arms around Grace's neck and planted a loud kiss on her cheek.

Grace grumbled, "You got slobber all over me."

But when she turned away, her eyes had quietly gone red.

Before bed, I received a message from Jonathan.

His text read: [Nine tomorrow morning. We'll finalize everything. Don't be late.]

A moment later, Claire sent me a friend request.

Her message contained only one sentence: [There are some things I'd like to discuss with you privately.]

*****

The next morning, Jonathan and I finalized the divorce.

When we stepped outside, he stood on the courthouse steps and looked at me with a complicated expression.

"You're not upset at all?" Jonathan asked.

I lifted the finalized divorce papers to shade my face from the sun.

"I was too busy checking the asset transfers last night," I said. "I didn't have time to schedule a breakdown."

His face darkened.

"You never loved me," Jonathan said.

I thought about that seriously.

I had.

I had loved him when he stumbled through midnight feedings with Mia, too exhausted to keep his eyes open.

I had loved him when he ran through the rain to buy me fever medicine and came home soaked from head to toe.

But love couldn't survive being worn away again and again.

He had placed me and Mia behind Claire and still expected me to stay exactly where he left me. That was asking for far too much.

"Believe whatever you want," I said.

I had barely turned to leave when a white sedan pulled up at the curb.

Claire stepped out in a linen dress, carrying a bouquet of white roses. She walked straight toward me with a smile she could barely contain.

"Ms. Rivers, thank you for finally letting go," Claire said.

I raised an eyebrow. "Did you come all this way to thank me?"

"I only wanted to make a few things clear," she said.

Claire gave a soft sigh and slipped into her usual gentle manner.

"Love has never been about who came first. Jonathan has always loved me. You kept him tied down with a marriage and a child for years," she said. "All three of you suffered because of it."

I glanced at my watch.

"You have 40 seconds," I said.

Apparently, she mistook my calm for an act. The smugness in her eyes deepened.

"Jonathan said you're obsessed with material things," Claire said. "Company profits, mortgage rates, tuition. Everything in your life comes down to numbers."

"Being with you made him feel like he could barely breathe," Claire added.

I looked at her. "So?"

"So take the compensation you deserve and stop clinging to him," she said. "His career, his future, and his relationships belong to him."

She continued, "He built that company himself. Leaving a failed marriage behind will only help him do better."

As she spoke, her gaze flicked toward Jonathan's watch and then toward the car parked at the curb.

That was when I understood.

She thought I had received nothing but one house and some cash.

Jonathan hadn't told her that his shares, savings, and real estate had all been transferred to me.

No wonder she had the nerve to come gloat in my face.

I smiled. "Don't worry. I won't cling to him."

Claire lifted her chin slightly.

"Good," she said. "Ms. Rivers, people should know their limits. Take too much of what never belonged to you, and sooner or later, it comes back to bite you."

I nearly laughed.

"That's excellent advice," I said. "You should remember it."

Jonathan walked over, looking faintly uncomfortable.

"Claire, let's go," he said.

She slipped her arm naturally through his.

Before leaving, Claire turned back to me one last time.

"Money can buy you a comfortable life, but it can't buy a man's heart. One day, you'll understand," she said.

I waved goodbye and said nothing.

What she didn't know was that the car and the watch in front of her were both on the asset-transfer list.

I wanted to see how long her lofty ideals would survive once she learned Jonathan had nothing left but his salary and that supposedly priceless heart.