Chapter 4
Evelyn's POV
It's the last day.
I stand in the kitchen, hoping he won't come back. Hoping he'll just stay at Sienna's so I can leave without any complications.
But just as the sky starts to lighten, Alexander pushes through the door. His hair is messy, his suit wrinkled. He sees me and smiles, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.
"Morning, honey."
He smells like perfume. Not mine. Something sweet and young.
I step back, casual, turning to face him. "You should sleep. You look exhausted."
"Crashed at the office last night. Already grabbed breakfast." He rubs his eyes. "Gotta head back in a bit to take care of some stuff. Just wanted to let you know - I booked that French place for tonight. Just us."
I look into his eyes. Remember this face. Remember this moment. "See you then."
He nods and kisses my forehead. "See you tonight."
The door closes again.
I stand there and smile. Goodbye, Alexander. For good this time.
I walk to the dining table and pull out the divorce papers the lawyer sent yesterday. I place them in the center of the table, then set down an envelope next to them. All the evidence inside. Photos. Screenshot of texts. Bank transfers.
I slip off the ring and place it next to them.
I grab the suitcase I packed days ago and head downstairs, taking one last look at this house. Our wedding photo still sits in the living room. That girl in the white dress, smiling so wide. I don't know her anymore.
Outside, a car waits at the curb.
I drag my suitcase out and look back one more time.
Seven years ago, when I first walked into this house, I thought it was home. Now I understand. Home was never a place. And here, I never really had one.
The car door shuts. The engine starts.
Manhattan blurs past the window. I don't cry. I'm not sad.
Just free.
All day, something feels off.
Alexander sits at his desk staring at numbers on the screen, but nothing registers. Some investor sits across from him, talking, but his mind keeps drifting. Something important is slipping through his fingers, and he can't catch it.
"Mr. Thornton?"
He looks up. The investor stares at him.
"Sorry, what?"
"The IPO timeline. Three months enough?"
"Yeah. Three months works."
The meeting finally ends. He checks his watch. Seven PM.
He drives to the restaurant. The server leads him to the reserved table by the window. Evelyn's favorite spot.
Minutes tick by. Evelyn doesn't show.
She's never late. Never. Did something happen to her?
He pulls out his phone and dials her number. "The person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls."
He freezes.
Blocked? How is that possible?
He calls his assistant. "Get to my house right now! Check on Evelyn - make sure she's okay!"
He rushes out of the restaurant and into his car. Floors it.
He's still on the road when his assistant calls. "Sir... Mrs. Thornton... she's... she's gone."
His head explodes with noise. He slams on the gas. The car tears through the streets.
Impossible. Impossible. She wouldn't leave. She wouldn't.
The car screeches to a stop outside. He runs inside.
His assistant stands in the living room, pale, holding a piece of paper and an envelope. Alexander charges over and rips them from his hands.
The words "Divorce Agreement" blur his vision.
No. No. No.
He tears open the envelope. Photos of him and Sienna scatter across the floor. Bank transfer records.
And a handwritten note.
"Alexander, I actually heard you talking with your friends that night. I never told you - I spent a year in Paris. Everything you said, I understood it all. Je comprends tout."
Alexander drops to his knees.
Photos surround him. Each one cuts like a knife.
She knew. She always knew. That night at the Met Gala, he thought she couldn't understand. He'd laughed, said she couldn't even understand 'bonjour.'
But she understood every word. She said nothing. She kept smiling. Kept playing the perfect wife. Kept being gentle with him.
Then she left.
Alexander looks around. The house feels empty. So much is missing. Everything that belonged to her is gone. Only the things she didn't want are left. And his things.
On the dining table, the ring sits there. She didn't even look at it twice.
He picks up the ring and turns to his assistant, his voice raw. "Find her. I don't care what it costs or what it takes. Just find her."
