Chapter 2
Arlene had barely watched Emery leave when her phone lit up with a video call from Pearson
He was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up on a crisp white shirt, tousled hair falling lightly over his forehead His dark lashes caught the light, giving him a gentle, almost delicate look
“My Angel is the divorce done yet?
He was a few years younger, less experienced, but every time Arlene saw that handsome face, her heart skipped in spite of herself, With looks like his no wonder the girls at his college never stopped chasing him.
She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. Tve signed the papers. In another month, Emery and I won’t have anything to do with each other.
At her words, Pearson’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Well, since you’re almost free, you’d better not let him sleep with you before then. I’m going to check your know Adene hadn’t expected him to say something so bold; heat crept up her cheeks. She forced a stem look. Don’t talk nonsense
Pearson stared at her an unmistakable possessiveness flickering in his eyes before he pouted. I might be young, but I’m not a kid in every way.7
Afraid the conversation would veer into dangerous tembory, Arlene quickly changed the subject, said a few placating words, and finally convinced him to end the call Pearson was tweet in every way–except he was just a little too attached.]
After hanging up, Adene stepped out to the comer store and bought a calendar For the next month, she counted down each day, tang off a page every moming
From October 1st to the 10th, Emery hadn’t come home once
But Arlene knew exactly where he’d been, who he’d seen, and what he’d been doing.
His new affair–Rosalie Stone, an inter at his company–made sure the world saw their escapades. Every day, Rosalie posted hints on social media an attemoon thea at a fancy restaurant, a round of golf at an exclusive club, an evening in a hilltop villa with city lights spawling below, or soaking together in a spa.
It was strange. Emery was never one to linger with any woman–he’d always gotten bored before a month was out. Yet this Rosalie, somehow, had managed to keep his attention for over three months.
Maybe that longevity had given her a cocky confidence. Unlike the others, Rosalle didn’t keep her distance. Instead, she’d added Arlene on social media, dropping subtle provocations bere and there
Arlene couldn’t be bothered. She was getting divorced–why would she care about these petty games?
With little else to do, she spent the week clearing out the house. The handpicked razors, the suits she’d pressed and arranged every day, the limited-edition Patek Philippe she’d queued online for hours to buy–no matter how expensive or trivial, if it was a gift she’d given Emery, she boxed it all up and threw it out
Along with those things, she discarded every grievance endured in their manage, every shred of affection she’d wasted on him
She was done with the past. It was time to start over
Two days later, Emery finally came home.
He looked around the house–now noticeably emplier–and frowned. “You throw out my stuff?‘.
Arlene barely glanced up from her magazine 1 did,”
“I bought it if I want it gone, it’s gone Problem?” she said coolly. “You haven’t come home in days. You don’t even use any of it‘
Emery assumed she was still sulking about their last argument and tried his usual reverse psychology. He sat beside her, voice nonchalant and coaxing. “Hey, we agreed, didn’t we? We do what we want outside, but we don’t get attached. So why are you upset all of a sudden?“2
The same tired excuse just for fun, nothing serious
No matter what he did, Emery always had a way to justify himself. And as his wife, she’d just had to accept whatever pain he threw her way, never allowed a single complaint
But che was done fighting over pointless things.
She snapped the magazine closed and stood, her tone icy as she started upstairs. “You’re overthinking, I don’t care anymo
Emery thought she was pulling on an act. He stood and caught her wrist. As she looked at him with barely concealed impatience, he pulled an invitation from his pocket and pressed it into her palm
“Don’t be mad,” he said. “Come with me to the auction tomorrow. You can bid on whatever you like. Let’s have some fun, okay
Her first instinct was to refuse, but when she caught sight of the Sotheby’s logo on the invitation, she hesitated, then agreed
After all, if she was going to leave him, she might as well enjoy spending his money one last time.
Mexactly five o’clock, Emery’s car pulled up to the front of the house
