Chapter 2 THE DIVORCE PAPERS

Seraphina stared at the first page for what felt like forever.

PETITION FOR DIVORCE.

Her name was typed in clean black ink right below those words. And right under hers: Lucian Cross.

Husband.

Wife.

Five years together, all boiled down to two names on a piece of paper.

She finally looked up.

"You brought divorce papers here?"

Lucian closed the folder halfway.

"I was going to give them to you tonight."

Seraphina let out a shaky laugh.

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"On our anniversary?"

He didn't flinch. His face was a mask.

"I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

Her eyes drifted to the bed. To Vivienne. The wine glasses. The champagne-she definitely hadn't brought that.

"So how exactly did you see this going?"

Lucian didn't answer.

The ache in her chest just grew deeper.

She'd walked in tonight expecting an apology-a decent explanation for why he was late, maybe flowers. Instead, she found cancelled plans and another woman, plus the end of their marriage, all arranged in advance.

She reached for the folder, hands unsteady.

She tried to read the legal words, but none of it sank in. There were asset lists, property arrangements, financial details. Whole pages, and none of them mentioned a chance to fix things. No counseling. No reconciliation. The papers made it feel like their marriage was just a contract about to expire.

"You already decided."

Lucian didn't fake it.

"Yes."

The simplicity hurt more than she expected.

She let the papers drop to her side.

"When?"

Lucian didn't look away.

"It's complicated."

"No." She shook her head. "It's not complicated anymore."

She held up the folder. "It's simple. You ended our marriage. You slept with someone else. You had these drawn up. So, when exactly did you decide I wasn't worth it?"

His jaw tightened.

"It's not about your worth."

"Then what?" Her voice cracked. "What is this really about?"

"Our marriage."

She looked at him long and hard. "That's not what I asked."

He avoided her eyes.

She swallowed. She knew him-seven years. She knew every little change in his expression, every sign he was tired or worn out, or hiding something. But tonight, he looked like someone she barely recognized.

That was somehow worse than the betrayal itself.

She stepped closer.

"How long have you been with her?"

Lucian's face went cold. "That's not relevant."

She stared at him. "Not relevant?"

"It doesn't change what's about to happen."

"So it makes no difference if it was one night or six months?"

"No."

He said it fast. Too fast.

Something in her just collapsed.

"It matters to me."

"I know."

"Then tell me."

He said nothing. He wouldn't even look at her.

The silence filled the room.

One second.

Two.

Five.

Still nothing.

She looked at Vivienne, who had stayed quiet. There wasn't a hint of shame-just this strange confidence, the way she leaned against Lucian.

Seraphina wondered how many times Vivienne had been here. How many nights she'd shared with Lucian. How many times she'd heard his voice in the dark, while Seraphina sat up alone, convinced Lucian was just working late.

"How long?" she tried again.

Lucian's face didn't change.

"I won't discuss that with you."

A bitter smile crept to her lips. "You won't discuss it with me?"

"You're upset."

"I'm your wife."

"Not for much longer."

He said it like that. No hesitation. The words cut her short.

She went still.

Lucian looked regretful now, maybe realizing he'd gone too far, but he didn't apologize for it.

Vivienne sighed, almost impatient.

"You should stop making this harder than it has to be."

Seraphina snapped her head around.

"I wasn't speaking to you."

"I know." Vivienne pulled the sheet up just a little more. "But someone has to be honest."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Vivienne glanced at Lucian, then back at Seraphina.

"He hasn't been happy for months."

Seraphina's stomach dropped.

"You must've noticed," Vivienne pressed on.

"Vivienne." Lucian's tone was warning.

She ignored him. "You two have been acting like strangers for a year. He stopped coming home early. He stopped going with you to events. He isn't even wearing his ring on trips anymore."

Seraphina just stared at him, heart pounding. All of that was true.

She'd noticed every one of those things. And every time, she'd found a reason. Work. Family. Stress. Business. She'd been so frantic to save her marriage that she'd turned every warning sign into an excuse.

Vivienne smiled, almost kindly. "You actually thought he'd fall back in love?"

Seraphina's face burned.

"Enough."

"You don't get it," Vivienne said quietly. "Lucian didn't come here tonight because he was confused."

Seraphina looked at Lucian. "Is it true?"

No answer.

"Lucian." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Nothing.

"Did you stop loving me months ago?"

Now he looked her straight in the eyes. There was something there-regret, maybe. Exhaustion. Maybe both. But he didn't deny it.

The silence was a punch to the gut.

She would've taken anger. She would've taken cruelty. Even a lie. Anything but this-watching the man she'd loved choose not to defend her.

She looked down at her wedding ring.

Five years.

She remembered the day he put it on her finger. His hands shook. She'd teased him later-Lucian Cross, master negotiator, looking terrified on his own wedding day. He'd just laughed, said marrying her was the one thing he couldn't afford to mess up.

She believed him. God help her, she'd believed him.

She brushed her thumb over the ring.

"Was any of it real?"

Lucian's face twisted, ever so slightly.

"What?"

"Our marriage."

He hesitated.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. "When you married me, did you actually want me?"

His jaw flexed. "These questions won't help you."

"They'll help me."

She took a step closer. "I need to know if the last five years of my life were real."

Lucian glanced down at her wedding ring, then back up.

"I cared about you," he said quietly.

Her throat ached. "That's not what I asked."

"I know."

"Did you love me?"

The room went dead quiet.

Vivienne looked away.

Lucian stared at Seraphina for a long moment.

Finally, he said, "There was a time when I did."

Just like that-everything inside her froze.

There was a time.

She nodded, slow and numb.

Strangely, it hurt more that he hadn't been cruel about it. He was telling the truth, or at least as much as he was willing to say. And somehow, the truth hurt worse than a lie.

She looked at the divorce papers again.

"I guess I should be grateful."

Lucian frowned. "For what?"

"For finally getting an answer."

She gathered the papers, slid them neatly into the folder.

He watched her.

"You don't have to sign tonight."

Seraphina looked at him, almost amused.

"Did you write these yourself?"

"No."

"Your lawyer?"

"Yes."

Of course. Even this-outsourced, impersonal.

She reached for the folder and he let go.

As she closed it, a loose page slipped to the floor.

She bent down to pick it up.

A date near the top caught her eye.

Three weeks ago.

Her fingers went cold.

Three weeks. Three weeks ago, he'd kissed her goodbye on his way to work. Three weeks ago, she'd ordered his birthday cake. Three weeks ago, they'd sat together at breakfast while she talked about surprising him for their anniversary.

Three weeks ago, he'd already set all this in motion.

She looked up at him, her grip white-knuckled on the paper.

"You prepared these three weeks ago."

Lucian's face shifted just a little, but she saw it.

"You already knew."

He stayed silent.

She pressed the paper to her chest.

"All this time you were planning to leave me."

"Seraphina-"

"And you let me plan tonight."

He still said nothing.

She just stared at him, suddenly thinking about every ordinary morning-the kisses goodbye, the little routines. How many of those moments had been fake? How many times did he sit across from her, already counting down until he left?

Her eyes burned, but she wouldn't let herself cry.

"You should have told me."

"I was going to."

"When?"

No answer.

Seraphina nodded-fine.

She slipped the papers into the folder, hugged it to her chest.

She glanced at Vivienne, sprawled in the bed. Then at Lucian.

"I came here thinking we were celebrating five years together."

Her voice shook, but she held it steady.

"But you-" she closed her eyes, steadying herself, "you've been celebrating the end for three weeks already."

She turned toward the door.

Lucian got up. "Seraphina-"

She stopped, but didn't look back.

"I didn't stop caring about you."

She squeezed her eyes shut. For just a second, she wanted to believe him.

Then she remembered the date on the papers.

Three weeks ago.

Whatever he'd once felt, it wasn't enough to stop him from planning her heartbreak.

She opened the door.

"Then you would've told me," she said.

She stepped into the hall.

Behind her, Lucian didn't move. He just let her go.

And for the first time in five years, Seraphina walked away-finally unsure whether she was leaving a marriage that had already died, or one that had never quite been real to begin with.