Chapter 2

Wren's POV

The next morning, I woke up to someone drilling into my skull.

I curled up in the guest bed, biting the sheets to keep quiet. Cold sweat soaked through my pajamas, my vision shaking in the darkness. After ten brutal minutes, the pain finally faded.

I fumbled for two painkillers and dry-swallowed them, listening to footsteps outside my door.

Eight AM. Eric was up.

I pulled on a turtleneck to hide my bony collarbones and stepped out.

Eric stood at his mirror fixing his tie. When he saw me coming from the guest room, he froze.

"You slept in there last night?"

"Yeah, felt a cold coming on. Didn't want you to catch it." I walked to the kitchen for water.

He watched me in the mirror, looking for hurt or anger on my face. Found nothing.

He yanked at his tie, frustrated. "Can't get this damn thing right. Come fix it."

This used to be our sweetest daily ritual. I'd stand on my toes to tie his Windsor knot, and he'd kiss my forehead.

But I stayed put, sipping my water. "Ask your assistant. Or watch a YouTube tutorial. My hands aren't steady."

Truth. The morning's pain had left me shaking.

Eric spun around, staring at me like I'd lost my mind. "Wren, what the hell? You're still pissed about last night? I TOLD you it was work!"

"I know." I set down my glass, met his eyes. "So I'm not pissed. My hands really aren't steady."

His phone buzzed on the counter. "Stella" flashing on the screen.

Eric glanced at me, like he was testing whether to answer. Before, I would've turned away and sulked. Now, seeing my blank face, he answered like he was proving a point.

"Stella? What happened?" His voice changed completely.

"Eric, you need to get here NOW. The merger addendum is totally screwed up and I can't handle this alone..." Her voice came through tearful and panicked.

"Okay, okay, calm down. I'm coming." He sounded so gentle.

He hung up, grabbed his keys and briefcase. Back to me, voice cold: "Stella's got an emergency. I have to go. I'll be home early tonight so we can talk. Stop with the attitude."

"Okay."

His hand froze on the door handle. He wasn't expecting me to agree so easily. He looked back, something weird in his eyes—confusion, maybe panic. But his pride wouldn't let him ask questions. The door slammed shut.

The apartment went dead quiet.

I went to the study, opened my laptop, started a new document.

The title took forever to type because my vision kept blurring.

Dissolution of Engagement and Asset Division Agreement

We didn't have much to split anyway. This place was his, I'd keep my savings. I wasn't even asking for compensation for five years of my life. When you're dying, money means nothing.

I printed two copies, signed my name in the bottom right corner. My handwriting was shaky but I pressed hard, like I could erase five years with one signature.

At noon, my friend Sarah called.

"Wren! Did you see that bitch Stella's Instagram? She's wearing the watch YOU bought Eric! Are you gonna do something or just let her steal your man?"

I held the phone away from my ear. "Sarah, I'm not gonna do anything."

"What's that supposed to mean? You're gonna ignore it? No way, you need to get over there and show her who's boss!"

"No. I mean I don't want him anymore." I looked at the papers on my desk. "It's over."

Dead silence. Then, carefully: "Wren... you okay? You love him. You can't just... stop loving someone."

"Sarah, I'm tired. Really tired." I closed my eyes. "I'm leaving New York."

"Leaving? Where? What the hell happened?"

"Somewhere quiet. Sarah, if Eric ever asks where I went, tell him you don't know. Please."

I hung up, pulled out my SIM card, tossed it in the trash.

I slid the signed papers into a manila envelope, then dragged out the suitcase I'd packed last night.

At 3 PM, I took one last look around the place I'd called home for three years.

His suit jacket still draped over the couch from last night, his half-finished glass of water on the coffee table. Everything so normal, like I was just running to the store and would be right back.

But I knew I'd never walk through this door again.

I went to the entryway, placed my diamond ring on top of the manila envelope.

Just as I was about to set the papers down and leave, my phone rang.

Eric.