Chapter 1
On the day Jack Gray and I got divorced, I was already three months along.
Jack was in such a hurry to marry his first love that he didn't even bother to finish reading the divorce papers before signing them.
I placed my hand on my belly and didn't say a single word.
Ten years later, I was at my son's elementary school graduation.
Suddenly, there was a stir in the crowd. The school's biggest donor had arrived.
I looked up and saw my ex-husband, Jack, dressed in a sharp suit, walking toward the stage.
He announced a donation of 1.5 million dollars, and the whole place erupted in cheers.
The principal, visibly excited, called for a student representative to come up, and my son got nudged onto the stage.
Standing side by side, my son was the spitting image of Jack. Jack was stunned, rooted to the spot.
I held my camera, wearing a serene, carefree smile.
*****
"Just sign it," Jack said, carelessly tossing the pen toward me.
The pen clattered against the mahogany surface, the sound sharp and crisp.
The Patek Philippe watch on his wrist reflected the white light from the City Hall ceiling.
I glanced at the watch face. It was three in the afternoon.
He had a four o'clock flight to catch, heading off to see Matilda Waters.
My gaze dropped back to the divorce papers.
The property settlement was straightforward. I would get the house on the west side of town, a car, and 1.5 million in cash.
I read every word, taking my time.
Jack's fingers drummed impatiently on the table.
It was like the beat of a death knell.
"Alanna, what's the point of reading all this? I had a lawyer draw it up. You won't be shortchanged," he said, his voice completely devoid of warmth.
His phone buzzed on the table, and the caller ID flashed Matilda's name.
He grabbed it and strode over to the window, answering the call.
He kept his voice low, but I could hear the excitement bubbling up anyway.
He said, "Almost there. Yeah, I'm heading straight to the airport.
"The tickets are all set. Don't worry.
"Wait for me, okay?"
Jack hung up, walked back over, and his brows knitted when he saw I still hadn't picked up the pen.
"What are you dragging your feet for?" Jack snapped.
I flipped to the last page, the section about custody.
It said there were no kids between us.
My hand instinctively rested on my belly.
It was still flat, and I couldn't feel anything yet.
But the doctor said the baby was already three months along.
There was a life inside me.
I looked up at Jack.
Jack had striking features, deep eyes, and a strong nose.
Right now, though, all I saw was irritation and impatience written all over his face.
It was like I was nothing more than a bit of lint stuck to his fancy suit.
I said calmly, "Jack. Five years of marriage."
Jack snorted, like I'd just cracked a joke that wasn't funny at all.
He asked, "So? You want more cash? Fine, just say how much."
He fished out a black card from his wallet and flicked it onto the agreement.
He said, "The PIN's your birthday. Every cent in there is yours. Happy now?"
I looked away from the black card and glanced back at his face.
I asked, "Did you ever love me?"
His impatience hit its peak, like I'd just struck a nerve.
Jack said, "Alanna, don't ask naive questions. We're adults.
"We are a couple," I said.
Jack shot back, his voice cold, "We were. And soon, we won't be."
He snatched the papers and pen from in front of me, flipped to the last page, and pointed at the signature line.
He said, "Just sign it. We're done. Take the money, enjoy your life, and don't ever bother me again."
He said I was bothering him.
Suddenly, I just laughed.
I picked up the pen and dragged it across the paper.
I wrote my name slowly, pressing down with so much force.
I nearly tore right through the page.
When I was done, I pushed the agreement back toward him.
"Done," I said.
Jack glanced at my signature, looking like a weight had finally been lifted off his shoulders.
He grabbed his copy, turned, and walked out without a hint of hesitation or regret.
At the door, he stopped, like he suddenly remembered something.
He didn't look back while saying, "Just keep the card."
It was his final handout.
The door clicked shut behind him.
I was left alone in the room.
I slowly got to my feet and walked over to the trash can.
Without a second thought, I tossed the black card in.
Then I walked out of City Hall.
The sunlight was blinding.
I raised a hand to block the glare, the other protectively over my belly.
I knew that Jack and I were not finished yet.
Our mess was just getting started.