Chapter 3

3.

Three days later, Nora could finally walk around.

She stood by the window of her hospital room, looking down at the garden below. Boston was still cold in February. The trees were bare, except for a few hardy holly bushes that remained stubbornly green.

Just like her life now.

A barren wasteland, but she had to force herself to keep going.

The door was suddenly pushed open. Before Nora could turn, she heard the one voice she never wanted to hear again.

"Nora, we need to talk."

Caleb.

Nora turned slowly to face the man at the door.

He still looked like the elite lawyer he was, dressed in a custom navy suit and polished leather shoes, his hair perfectly coiffed. The only difference was the faint dark circles under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn't been sleeping well either.

"We have nothing to talk about," Nora said coldly. "Didn't your lawyer already send over the divorce papers? I'll sign them."

Caleb frowned. "Nora, don't be like that. We were married for three years―"

"Three years?" Nora cut him off, a sarcastic smile playing on her lips. "Yes, three years. Plenty of time to see who a person really is."

Caleb took a deep breath, as if trying to control his temper. "I know what I said in the delivery room hurt you. But you have to understand, I was under a lot of pressure. You know the requirements the Vance family has for an heir―"

"So you were just going to watch me die?" Nora’s voice rose. "Caleb, I almost died on that operating table! My heart stopped for a full minute! And you were busy calculating my 'value' to the Vance family?"

"I didn't want you to die!" Caleb shot back, his own anger flaring. "I just―"

"You just what? Just decided a wife who can't have any more children isn't as useful as a Beacon Hill socialite who can advance your political career?" Nora sneered. "Don't think I don't know about you and Chloe Whitmore. All of Boston high society is whispering about it. The eldest son of the Vance family is pursuing the Whitmore heiress to secure his run for DA."

Caleb's face changed. "Who told you that nonsense?"

"Nonsense?" Nora pulled a stack of photos from her bedside table and threw them at his feet. "I hired a private investigator. Here you are, shopping with her on Newbury Street. Having dinner at a French restaurant in the Back Bay. Strolling along the Charles River. Are you going to keep lying, Caleb?"

The photos scattered across the floor.

They clearly showed Caleb in intimate moments with a blonde woman. The woman, wearing a Burberry trench coat, was clinging to his arm, a blissful smile on her face.

Caleb was silent.

Finally, he looked up, his expression shockingly unapologetic. "Nora, I admit that Chloe and I have gotten… close. But you have to see the bigger picture. The Vance family law firm is in the middle of a merger negotiation with the Whitmores. If we land this deal, it will catapult us into the top tier of Boston law firms. And my DA campaign needs the Whitmore family’s political connections and financial backing. You should be able to understand that―"

"The bigger picture?" Nora couldn't believe what she was hearing. "So for the sake of your 'bigger picture,' I should just be thrown away? I should have just bled to death in that delivery room?"