Chapter 1
Three years after the divorce was finalized, Veronica Grant saw her ex-husband at the flower shop.
Snow was falling outside, soft and lazy. When the wind picked up, the tiny bells hanging from the awning gave a gentle, scattered ring.
Scott Harrington stood at the counter in a sharp black coat. He set the flowers he had chosen on the checkout counter without a second glance, his eyes lingering on her face instead.
Veronica paused for half a heartbeat, then reached up and touched the edge of her mask, as if making sure it was still in place.
She wrapped the bouquet slowly, taking her time. "That'll be forty-five dollars, sir."
The man across from her raised an eyebrow. "Add some baby's breath. My wife loves it."
Veronica did what he asked, tucking the little white flowers into the bunch, then held it out to him without looking up.
He took the bouquet quickly, but the shadow he cast across the counter didn't move away.
She was still waiting for him to go when she glanced up, and right at that moment, Scott spoke. "Baby's breath was always your favorite."
Veronica's breath caught, but her voice stayed surprisingly steady. "Sir, I have no idea what you mean."
"You actually think a mask is gonna fool me?" Scott smirked, a hint of a taunt in his voice. "Five years, and it looks like life hasn't been so great for you."
Veronica glanced down at her faded shirt and rough hands. She gave a small, bitter smile. He wasn't wrong.
Seven years ago, after she graduated from Caelum University and married Scott, she went from being an ordinary overachiever to the wife of the wealthiest man in the country.
She never imagined she would end up like this.
Scott continued, "Looking at you now, do you really think you're in any shape to take care of Domira?"
At that name, Veronica's face went tight. She answered politely, "That's none of your business, Mr. Harrington."
Silence filled the space between them again. After a long pause, Scott turned and walked out.
Her coworker sidled up, smelling gossip. "Wasn't that the CEO of Harrington Enterprises? You know him?"
Veronica said, "Yeah."
Her coworker's eyes lit up. "He's a legend. I heard he stood up to his entire family for his ex-wife, got slapped by his grandfather, and gave her a wedding that people still talk about.
"I still don't get why they split up. Maybe those stories were all talk, and he wasn't actually that good to her?"
"Not all of it was talk," Veronica murmured, sounding far away, like she'd slipped back seven years. "Scott was wild about her.
"He took her to Sulfridge to see the Northern Lights, to Ochreton for the reefs, and they promised each other forever by the Starfall Bay.
"He'd stay up late playing video games with her, eat from food trucks, and go hiking together.
"When she got sick, Scott stayed by her bed night after night. He practically begged an old professor at her university to get her the best specialist.
"They had a little girl, Domira. Scott said he chose that name so their family would always be together."
Her coworker's mouth fell open. "Are you—"
Veronica replied calmly, "Yeah, I'm his ex-wife."
Her coworker fell silent, but after a beat, she couldn't hold back her curiosity. "What about the kid?"
This time, Veronica didn't answer. She took off her mask and let out a slow breath.
Her once delicate face was now a map of scars. Some small, some jagged and deep, all of them harsh and unsettling.
Her coworker remembered Veronica once saying her ex-husband had done this to her.
Realizing what that meant, her coworker's gaze softened with sympathy, and she let the subject drop.
After work, Veronica bought a slice of apple pie from the bakery and headed toward the cemetery.
The snow was coming down harder now, the wind slashing at her cheeks like tiny blades.
She stopped in front of the grave, knelt, and carefully wiped the tombstone clean.
She placed the pie in front of the grave and whispered, "Domira, Mommy came to see you."
*****
The next day, when Veronica walked into the flower shop, the place was eerily quiet.
She sensed something was off and looked up. Sitting in one of the chairs was Scott, dressed in a tailored suit, his long fingers drumming idly on the table.
Across from him, the store manager was dabbing sweat from his forehead, bowing repeatedly as he apologized. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Harrington. This is entirely our fault."
Scott drawled, "I'm not here to make a scene, but the flowers I bought yesterday are already wilting. My wife is furious."
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Veronica and smirked. "Here's an idea. Let go of the girl who helped me yesterday. That should smooth things over with my wife.
"She's only twenty-two, young and a bit temperamental. I hope you'll understand."
The manager froze, looking conflicted.
Veronica stood still, her hands clenched into fists.
When the divorce went through, it was messy and public, thanks to the Harrington family. She didn't have a cent to her name, and no business would touch her.
She had washed dishes, hauled bricks, dug through dumpsters, and even begged on the street.
The flower shop job was hard, but at least it was steady. She couldn't afford to lose it.