Chapter 4

James didn't realize something was wrong until three days later. To be precise, it was the day he and Lily got back from Islehaven.

Henry told me about it later. A man named Foster had called my old number back home more than twenty times, but it was always off. Then he called my mom.

My mom said, "You should ask yourself." Then she hung up.

The next day, a message from James popped up in my new number's inbox. I had no clue how he got my new number.

It read: [Emily, where are you? All your stuff is gone from the house. What does that mean? Call me.]

He wasn't concerned at all. He was interrogating me.

I didn't reply.

Then came the second message: [Are you mad again? I was only gone for three days. Is it really that big a deal?]

I couldn't help but smile at the screen. "Business trip," huh? Whatever, let him spin his story however he liked.

Six hours later, the third message came: [Emily, if you don't reply, I'll assume you're fine with us giving each other the cold shoulder.]

"The cold shoulder," he sure knew how to give himself an out.

The next day, the fourth message came: [Your mom won't tell me where you are. Where did you go?] His tone finally shifted, a hint of panic creeping in beneath the impatience.

I still didn't reply.

The fifth message was a voice note. I tapped to listen.

The background was dead quiet, and his voice sounded rough. "Emily, stop with the drama. Let's talk about it when you're back. I'll sort out the honeymoon. You can pick wherever you want to go."

Honeymoon? He still thought I was sulking about the honeymoon.

He had no clue I'd already seen those chat logs.

He didn't know I'd seen him complain about me, say I was a pain.

He didn't know I'd seen him give our honeymoon away to another woman.

He thought if he said a few nice things and threw me a bone, I'd come running back.

That was exactly what I'd done for the past three years. Every time he let me down, I'd throw a fit, he'd say a few sweet words, and I'd let it slide. Every single time.

He knew exactly how far he could push me. So of course, he was not worried now. To him, I was never going to leave.

I let out a small laugh, tossed my phone aside, and went back to polishing the platinum ring setting in my hand.

Henry poked his head in from the doorway. "James is at it again. He called the office landline this time."

"We're not divorced yet, so don't call him my ex-husband," I replied.

Henry shrugged. "It's bound to happen sooner or later. Want me to take the call?"

"No."

He nodded and left.

I lowered my head and focused on my work.

The piece I was working on was a necklace. The design was inspired by the slow-moving rivers under the frozen surface.

On the outside, everything looked calm. But underneath, the currents never stopped moving. Pretty much summed me up.

*****

It wasn't until the tenth day that James finally realized things had changed. That afternoon, he got served with divorce papers.

Zoe handled it like a pro. The agreement was crisp and straightforward, no loose ends.

When it came to money, I didn't want a cent from him. Whatever I earned after we got married, and whatever I had before, was mine. His stuff stayed his. We'd always split everything down the middle anyway.

The only rule: we left with what was ours, owing nothing to each other.

Zoe said James's expression shifted when he got the papers. It wasn't sadness. It was the kind of anger that came from being embarrassed.

He called Zoe right away. "Forget about divorce. Tell Emily to come back and say it to my face."

Zoe replied, "Mr. Foster, Emily's made her intentions clear. If you're okay with the terms, sign."

James hung up. Then he did exactly what I expected. He flew to Lumiere.