Chapter 3

Isabelle's POV

The next morning, Vincent brings Serena home.

I stand by the guest room window and watch him help her out of the car. His hand rests on her waist, careful and gentle, like she's something fragile he might break. The same man who shoved me into a wall last night and walked away without looking back now brushes her messy hair from her face.

Makes sense. She wasn't actually hurt. Why would she stay at the hospital?

Over the next few days, I barely leave the guest room. Not because I don't want to. Because I can't stand what I see every time I pass the living room.

Vincent sits on the couch going through paperwork while Serena curls up beside him. He drapes a blanket over her without looking up.

Vincent eats breakfast at the table and reaches across to put bacon on Serena's plate.

Vincent walks with her in the garden, holding her arm. They talk about something I can't hear and laugh together.

Their laughter drifts up the stairs and slips under my door. It fills the empty guest room. Every sound reminds me: You don't belong here. You're in the way.

I tell myself it doesn't matter. In three days, this will all be over.

I won't have to watch them anymore. Won't have to hear the laughter. Won't have to pretend I'm still part of this family.

Three days. Just three more days.

The next afternoon, Vincent's mother knocks on my door.

She walks in carrying a folder.

"Divorce papers," she says, getting right to it. She sets the folder on the bed. "I already had Vincent sign it. Now I just need yours."

I open the folder. Every clause spelled out clearly. Asset division. Debt allocation. Rights and obligations. Vincent's signature is at the bottom, messy and careless, like he signed without thinking.

Maybe he thought it was just another family business contract. Maybe he didn't read it at all. Maybe he did, but his mind was somewhere else. On Serena. On the baby.

I pick up the pen.

Three years of marriage, reduced to these few pages. The bullet I took for him. My chance at being a mother, gone. Every lonely night I endured. All of it reduced to legal terms.

I sign my name.

Vincent's mother takes the papers back and checks them carefully. She nods, satisfied.

"Look, you saved my son's life once," she says, and for the first time I hear something soft in her voice. "I couldn't just kick you out myself. I'm glad you're being reasonable about this."

She pulls out a plane ticket. "Tomorrow night. No one else will know where you're going. Just me."

I take the ticket. The door swings open.

Vincent stands in the doorway, looking between me and his mother. "Mom? What are you doing here?"

His mother shoves the folder into her bag.

"Just talking to Isabelle about her moving out," she says smoothly. "Way too much space for one person. An apartment would be better for her."

Vincent's face changes. "What?"

He looks at me. Something complicated flickers in his eyes. Guilt. Unease. Something else I can't read.

"Is that true?" he asks.

I smile. "Yeah. Better for both of us. You can take care of Serena. I don't have to watch you two together."

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I didn't know..."

Serena appears in the doorway. She holds the frame with one hand, the other resting on her stomach.

"Vincent, what's wrong? I heard your voice..." She sees the three of us and acts surprised, right on cue. "Oh. Is Isabelle moving out?"

Then comes the familiar act. "This is all my fault. If you don't want to move, I can leave instead. I know you're his real wife..."

"Don't bother," I cut her off. "Everyone's better off if I go."

After Vincent's mother leaves with Serena, it's just the two of us.

I start packing. Three years of my life fit easily into two suitcases.

"If you don't want to, I can talk to my mother," Vincent says from the doorway, watching my back. "You don't have to..."

"I want to."

"I'll set you up in another place," he says. "Once Serena has the baby, I'll bring you back home."

Once Serena has the baby.

I want to laugh. That day will never come. Once I move out, he'll forget I exist. Coming back? Never gonna happen.

The sky darkens as we drive out of the neighborhood. I watch the scenery fly by. "If one day I just left, what would you think?"

Vincent slams on the brakes. The car stops at the side of the road. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I turn to look at him. "I can see you love Serena. You love that baby. I can't give you what you want. Why should I keep staying here pretending to be your wife when..."

"No!" He practically yells. "I only love you!"

He takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Tomorrow night. I booked us a hotel. Just you and me. Trust me, Isabelle. You're the only one I want."

I don't answer. Just keep looking out the window. The night is thick and dark.

The next evening, Vincent picks me up right on time.

He's wearing a new suit. White roses lie in the passenger seat.

"For you," he says hopefully.

I take the flowers without saying anything.

The hotel is downtown. French restaurant on the top floor.

When the elevator doors open, I see someone who shouldn't be here.

Serena sits on a couch near the restaurant entrance. She lights up when she sees us. "Vincent! I knew you'd be here!"

I smile and turn to Vincent. "Thought it was just the two of us?"

Vincent looks stunned. "What are you doing here? I told you to rest at home."

"I wanted to surprise you," Serena says, getting to her feet with one hand on her stomach. "And I'm feeling so much better today. Thought I'd get out for a bit. You're not mad, are you?"

I watch Vincent. Watch the shock on his face turn into helplessness, then resignation.

"Forget it," I say, my voice flat, like I'm discussing the weather. "Let's just all eat together."