Chapter 3

Evelyn's POV

I've barely been home five minutes when I hear the lock turn.

Alexander rushes in, his eyes darting around the room. The second he spots me, he runs over and pulls me into a tight hug.

"Where the hell were you? I called three times. The doctor said you'd left - I looked everywhere. God, I was terrified something happened to you."

Look at this performance.

"I'm fine." I pat his back gently. "Ran into Rachel on my way home, we got to talking. My phone was on silent, didn't even notice."

He pulls back, cupping my face in both hands. "Don't scare me like that."

"Sorry. I should've called you back."

"It's okay." He kisses my forehead. "As long as you're alright."

We sit down on the couch. He holds my hand like I might disappear if he lets go.

"Actually..." I pause. "Rachel's putting together this startup fund for women in tech. She asked if I wanted to invest."

His eyes light up. "That's amazing! You're finally getting back out there."

"I want to give it a shot. But I'd need some startup capital. Half a million."

There's a beat of silence. I watch his face, waiting for hesitation, waiting for questions.

But nothing comes.

He pulls out his phone. "Give me the account number. I'll transfer it right now."

"You're not going to ask what the project is?"

"I trust you." His thumb moves across the screen. "What's mine is yours. Whatever you want to do, I've got your back."

The transfer notification chimes.

Just like that. Five hundred thousand dollars. He doesn't even blink.

Consider it compensation for these past few years.

The next morning, Alexander leaves for the office.

I sit at the dining table and open my laptop. I organize all the evidence I've collected - screenshots, recordings, everything - and send it to the top divorce firm in New York.

I attach one line: "One requirement: Fast divorce. As fast as possible."

I've just closed my laptop when my phone buzzes. Unknown number. "You're Evelyn?"

I freeze for a second. Then it clicks. This must be Sienna.

"What do you want?"

The next second, messages flood in one after another: "He says you're boring in bed."

"He says being with you is like being dead inside."

"I'm pregnant with his baby. Did you know that?"

"After the IPO, he's divorcing you to be with me."

"All I need is one word and he'll drop you to be with me."

I stare at the words. There's no anger, no sadness. Just calm. Then I start taking screenshots.

Less than five minutes later, Alexander calls.

"Hey babe, sorry. Emergency at work tonight. Gonna be really late, probably won't make it home. Don't wait up for dinner, okay?"

"Okay. Do what you gotta do."

I hang up. Forward all the screenshots to my lawyer. Then I send Sienna one message back:

"He's all yours. Trash and all."

Then I block the number.

By nightfall, I'm alone in the living room.

Alexander doesn't come home.

I head upstairs and push open the bedroom door.

Those love letters are still in the nightstand drawer. Words he wrote seven years ago. "Evelyn Hart, I'll love you forever." "You're my everything." "I can't live without you."

I pull them all out, tear them up one by one, and toss them in the trash.

Framed photos. Wedding pictures. Vacation shots. His birthday gifts, anniversary presents.

All of it goes.

I pull out one small suitcase. I pack a few simple clothes, my passport, documents, the pearl necklace my mother left me.

That's it. Seven years of marriage, this is all that's left.

I zip it up and push the suitcase to the back of the closet.

Then I lie down on the bed. This bed we've shared for seven years.

Where is Alexander right now? Some hotel room? Sienna's apartment?

His arms around her, his lips on her, saying the same things he once said to me.

Lies. All lies.

I rest my hand on my chest. Whatever used to be there is dead now.

Love. Trust. Any hope for this marriage.

All dead.

And I'm finally free. I'm going to disappear. Completely.

And Alexander will find the bed empty. The closet empty. His life empty.

Only then will he understand what he's lost.

But it'll be too late.