Chapter 3

Adeline's POV

Winnie pulls through.

At first light, Beckett walks out of the hospital room, exhausted.

He sees me sitting on the bench in the hallway and stops for a second, then gives a cold laugh. "What, done making a scene? Sitting here waiting for me to forgive you now that you know you were wrong?"

I don't say anything, just pull the papers I printed out of my bag and hand them to him.

"Saves us both the trouble," I say evenly. "The faster this ends, the better for both of us. I don't want a cent. I'll walk away with nothing. Take a look at the terms. If you have a problem with anything, say it now."

Beckett's face turns to stone. He grabs the papers and rips them apart without even reading them.

"Adeline, have you completely lost it?" His voice is low, furious. "Winnie almost died trying to prove she wasn't in the wrong. And you? All you're good for is causing trouble."

"She did that because you lied to her," I say, watching him steadily. "Beckett, just sign. It's better for everyone."

"Keep dreaming." Beckett steps closer, something cruel and unhinged in his eyes. "Winnie's a wreck right now. She thinks she's the one who wrecked our marriage. The second she wakes up, you're gonna go in there and tell her, straight to her face, that we've been done for years and you walked away on your own. You're gonna accept her."

I look at this man in front of me and realize he no longer feels familiar at all, just a stranger who disgusts me.

"You want me to bow to your mistress? Tell her she's the victim and I'm the one who should get lost?" I let out a cold laugh.

"You brought this on yourself!" Beckett's voice rises. "Adeline, if you don't go in there, I'll show you what it really means to lose everything."

"You're not thinking straight right now." I pick up my bag and turn to go. "We'll talk about the divorce once you've calmed down."

"Walk out that door, Adeline, and don't ever come back!"

I step outside the hospital, and the early morning air cuts straight through my collar.

I don't hesitate. I call a car straight to my studio.

The divorce is happening either way, so I might as well start getting ready to leave this city. In New York, Beckett has too much reach. If I stay, he'll just keep grinding me down.

I push open the studio door and freeze.

This place is everything I built from nothing, from a studio nobody noticed to one that actually made a name for itself. My couture line won awards back home, and even that school in Paris I used to dream about reached out with an offer.

I was just too stupid back then. For Beckett, I turned down my own ticket to Paris and stayed by his side instead.

Now the floor is covered in smashed computer screens, torn-up sketches, fabric ruined with paint thrown all over it.

The exhibition gown I stayed up night after night to finish is cut into strips, dumped on the ground like garbage.

A few people are still tearing the place apart. Beckett's assistant stands off to the side.

The assistant sees me and says, flat, no expression, "Ms. Wexford, Beckett says whenever you come to your senses and apologize to Winnie, he'll pay you back double for all of this. Otherwise, this is just the beginning."

I look at the wreckage around me, and the last bit of feeling in me goes still.

Eight years in a marriage where he shut me out and froze me out, and I actually thought if I just endured enough, Beckett would eventually look back at me.

Now I finally get it. Hoping a rotten man will come around is the cruelest thing I could do to myself.

My phone rings. It's my mom.

"Addie... a bunch of people just showed up and threw me and your dad's things out on the street, saying this house belongs to the Wexfords, saying we can't stay here anymore... what's going on?" Her voice is shaking on the other end.

"Mom, don't be scared. I'm coming right now."

I hang up and look at the assistant. "Go back and tell Beckett he won. He can keep this trash and enjoy it himself."

I turn and walk out without taking a single sheet of paper from the studio.

On the way to my parents' place, I print out another copy of the divorce agreement, take off the ring I've worn for eight years, and slide it into the folder with the papers.

When I get to my parents' place, the two of them are standing outside in the cold, shivering, a few beat-up suitcases at their feet, a couple of expressionless bodyguards standing nearby.

"Addie, what's going on with Beckett? Did you two... have a fight?" My dad's voice trembles.

"Dad, Mom, we don't need him anymore." I walk over and pull them both into a tight hug. "I'm taking you both out of here."

I hand the folder to one of the bodyguards, my voice flat. "Give this to Beckett for me."

Then I take my parents by the arm and walk straight to the car parked at the curb, never looking back.

That afternoon, I use what's left of my savings to buy three one-way tickets to Paris.

As the plane climbs into the sky, I watch the city outside the window shrink smaller and smaller until it blurs into nothing, and slowly close my eyes.

Beckett. It started with you, and it ends with you too.

From now on, we have nothing left to do with each other.