Chapter 1

1.

On the way to our eighteenth attempt at finalizing our divorce, Dante Moretti ghosted me. Again.

I was standing on the steps of the New York courthouse when I got the same old text from him.

"Something came up. Another time."

That day, I just stared blankly at the red-circled date on my calendar.

I was done wasting my life on this god-awful marriage.

After a long pause, I took out my phone and calmly typed a few words.

"Isn't she pregnant again?"

"Dante, you already have an heir. For fuck's sake, just let me go."

The nineteenth time, we finally got divorced.

…

Dante and I used to be so in love.

We dreamed of a happy family, of a beautiful baby of our own.

But now, the son he had with his mistress is already three years old.

And still, for three long years, he refused to divorce me.

"Eleanor."

Someone called my name, pulling me from my thoughts.

A woman from a family I knew shot me a sympathetic glance, unable to stop herself from offering a piece of useless advice.

"Eleanor, stop making a scene. No matter how much you fight it, the child is here. Dante… he still loves you, you know."

I didn’t answer. I just turned around.

There he was, standing in the doorway in a bespoke suit. I had no idea how long he’d been listening.

The moment our eyes met, he turned and walked away.

Today was the day. The day his son was to be officially acknowledged and entered into the Moretti family records.

The ceremony, held at the family estate, was halfway through when the family elders hit a snag over the mother’s name.

I had warned them beforehand: do not write my name.

During the tense silence, someone tried to reason with him.

"Dante, it's time to move on."

But Dante’s eyes were fixed on me, his jaw set in stubborn silence.

Everyone was watching me.

"Fine by me," I said, my voice even. "I have no objection."

I thought I heard a bitter, self-mocking laugh from him then.

Sarah was called in. After the ceremony concluded, she stood to leave, but Dante stopped her.

"Come here. Stand by my side."

From the corner of my eye, I could see his gaze was still locked on me, gauging my reaction.

I kept my head down, refusing to look.

But after he finally looked away, I couldn't stop myself from taking a glance.

Sarah leaned against him, clutching his sleeve, her eyes filled with adoration for the child they shared.

My heart, which I thought was numb, still ached with a dull pain.

As I was standing at the very back, I was the first to leave once the ceremony ended.

Behind me, I could hear the little boy, Leo, skipping along, holding Dante’s hand on one side and Sarah Jenkins’s on the other.

Dante's parents watched the perfect little family, their faces beaming with a satisfaction that felt like a knife in my gut.

And to think, they used to be on my side.

I remembered when Sarah first showed up with her newborn, kneeling at the gates of the Moretti estate for a day and a night.

They had refused to let the child in.

They swore that as long as I drew breath, I would always be Mrs. Moretti.

Good thing I didn't believe them back then.

As Dante walked past, I stopped him. He looked over, his expression dark and stormy.

"The divorce. Tomorrow. Don't forget."

My insistence on divorce over the years had worn his patience thin.

Everyone thought my wanting a divorce was just a tantrum, that I was just bitter.

Three years of protest should have been enough.

The boy was three years old now. What good would it do to not forgive him?

But only I knew the truth. I truly didn't want to waste another second of my life on this miserable marriage.

Beside him, Sarah’s eyes instantly welled with tears.

"Ma'am, did I do something to make you angry? If I did, I apologize."

"Please try to understand Dante's position, and don't make things so difficult for him on purpose."

Dante stared at me for a long moment before sneering, "We're getting a divorce. What right does she have to be angry?"

Tears finally burned my eyes.

The next thing I knew, a small body slammed into me, pushing me hard.

Little Leo stood protectively in front of Sarah, hands on his hips, glaring at me.

I landed hard on the ground, my palm scraping against the rough pavement.

Dante took an involuntary step forward, his mask cracking to reveal a flicker of something in his eyes.

But a soft retching sound shattered the moment.

Sarah clutched her chest, her face turning pale as she doubled over.

A whisper cut through the silence behind me.

"Is she... pregnant again?"