Chapter 5

Julian stared at me, apparently surprised that I had not broken down.

“Don't twist my words,” he said. “If you had paid more attention to your husband instead of acting like a victim, none of this would have happened.”

I looked at the man I had loved for nine years and felt the last of that love disappear.

“Fine. Since you and Sienna are truly in love, take her and get out of my sight.”

A glint of triumph flashed across Sienna's eyes.

She covered her face and sobbed. “Nora, please don't be angry. I'll leave right now. I won't stay here and get in your way.”

She turned toward the entrance, stumbling as though she could barely see through her tears.

When she reached the three marble steps in the foyer, she suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Sienna, let go of me.”

I pulled my hand free.

At that instant, she deliberately threw herself backward.

“Nora, don't push me!”

Her body twisted sideways before she fell heavily onto the marble floor.

“Julian! My stomach! It hurts!”

She curled up, clutching her abdomen and screaming.

Julian didn't ask what had happened. He turned toward me with bloodshot eyes and shoved me violently.

“How the hell did you become so vicious?”

I staggered backward, and my lower back struck the edge of the table.

“She's pregnant!” Julian shouted. “If anything happens to Sienna or the child, I'll never forgive you!”

My phone remained in my pocket, recording his accusation and the sound of his hands striking my body.

Julian bent down and lifted Sienna into his arms.

As he carried her toward the door, she rested weakly against his chest. Then, over his shoulder, she opened her eyes and gave me a cold, triumphant smile.

The door slammed behind them.

Seconds later, the roar of Julian's car tore through the snowy night as he drove Sienna to the hospital.

I stood alone in the empty mansion, surrounded by photographs and evidence of their betrayal.

Then I stopped the recording.

The file had captured Julian's confession, Sienna's false accusation, and the moment he assaulted me.

I sent it to Richard and waited until the delivery confirmation appeared on my screen.

Julian did not return that night.

He did not return on Christmas Day either.

Over the next five days, he remained at the private hospital or in a nearby hotel with Sienna. He sent me only two brief messages, both demanding that I calm down and apologize for "endangering his child."

He never asked whether the bruises on my back were serious.

He never asked how Leo and Maya were doing.

Most importantly, he never came home.

His absence gave me all the time I needed.

While Julian comforted his mistress, I met with Richard, preserved every piece of evidence, arranged a secure place for the children and me to live, and formally filed for divorce.

On the morning of December 31, the moving company arrived before sunrise.

Under my supervision, the movers packed our clothes, the children's books and toys, my jewelry, and the photographs and belongings that had come from my family.

I left everything belonging to Julian untouched.

His suits remained in the closet. His watches stayed in their cases. Even the bottle of cedarwood cologne on his dresser remained exactly where he had left it.

By seven o'clock, my side of the bedroom was empty.

Leo and Maya came downstairs wearing their winter coats. Maya held her stuffed rabbit against her chest.

“Mommy,” she asked, looking around the empty living room, “are we going on vacation?”

I knelt and zipped her coat.

“We're going somewhere new.”

“Is Daddy coming with us?”

My hands paused for a moment.

“No, sweetheart.”

Leo silently took his sister's hand.

“It's okay,” he told her. “We're going with Mommy.”

Before leaving, I removed my wedding ring.

For nine years, I had worn it every day. A faint pale mark remained around my finger after I took it off.

I placed the ring in the center of the marble coffee table.

Beneath it lay a sealed copy of the divorce petition Richard had filed on my behalf. Julian's name was printed clearly on the first page.

I left no letter.

There was nothing left to explain.

I took Leo's hand in one hand and Maya's in the other and led them outside.

Snow fell silently over the driveway. A black Bentley waited at the bottom of the steps with its engine running.

I helped the children into the back seat and fastened their seat belts.

“Mommy,” Maya whispered, “when are we coming back?”

I looked through the window at the house where I had spent nine years waiting for Julian to choose his family.

“We aren't.”

I closed the car door.

The Bentley moved slowly down the snow-covered driveway. Neither child looked back.

I did.

Through the tall living-room windows, I could still see the marble coffee table beneath the fading Christmas lights.

My wedding ring rested on top of the divorce papers, waiting for Julian to come home.

I watched until the mansion disappeared behind the closing iron gates.

Then I turned forward and held my children close.

Julian had stayed away for six days because he believed I would still be waiting whenever he chose to return.

At 6:03 that evening, my phone vibrated.

FRONT DOOR UNLOCKED — JULIAN.

I opened the security feed.

He stepped into the mansion carrying a bouquet of roses.

Then he looked up and called my name.