Chapter 2

2.

The day I was discharged, the housekeeper told me Vivienne had taken the Hayes family to Disney for a two-day trip.

"Miss Sterling asked me to make sure you had some fresh stew," the maid said tentatively.

I paused while packing my essentials.

In the past, whenever Vivienne had to travel for work, she would leave detailed instructions for my meals.

"Just leave it in the kitchen. I'll have it later."

I walked into my study and pulled a small wooden box from the bottom drawer.

Inside were letters I had written to Vivienne every single day since our wedding.

I had planned to give them to her on our tenth anniversary.

It was a beautiful dream that had turned into a nightmare.

I carried the box out into the backyard.

The garden was filled with purple Irises, my favorite flower.

Vivienne had planted them all for me and used to tend to them personally.

Now, a third of them were yellowing and dead from neglect.

Since I was leaving, there was no point in keeping this garden alive.

I called over the groundskeeper.

"Jack, please dig up all these flowers and clear the beds."

Jack hesitated, looking at me with confusion. "Are you sure, sir?"

I gave him a tired smile.

"They're dying anyway. It looks terrible."

The old man sighed. "Miss Sterling was so excited about these. Maybe she'll start caring for them again..."

"Just clear them, Jack. Please."

He didn't argue further and went to gather his tools.

I walked to the far corner of the yard and started a small fire.

One by one, I fed the letters into the flames.

As the paper turned to ash, I felt my love for Vivienne burning away with them.

Later that afternoon, I visited a law firm to have my divorce papers drafted.

I chose to walk away with nothing―no alimony, no assets.

When Vivienne finally returned with Alastair and Wren, the crew was still hauling away the dead Irises.

Her brow furrowed as she saw the bare dirt. "Who told you to destroy the garden?"

Before Jack could answer, I stepped out onto the porch.

"I did. The flowers were dead. There was no reason to keep them."

Vivienne looked slightly guilty for a fleeting second.

"I've been busy. I'll hire a professional to replant them tomorrow."

I just gave a non-committal hum and turned to head toward the garage.

Vivienne grabbed my arm, stopping me. "Where are you going?"

"I need to buy some things."

"I'll go with you," she said, surprisingly insistent.

I stared at her, genuinely shocked.

Ever since Alastair arrived, she had spent every waking moment with him.

This was the first time she had volunteered to spend time with me.

Before I could say no, Alastair nudged Wren.

The girl immediately grabbed Vivienne's hand, tugging hard.

"Mommy, you promised to read me stories! You can't go!"

Vivienne didn't even hesitate. She looked at me and shrugged. "Maybe next time?"

I let out a soft, mocking laugh and walked away without a word.

I took an Uber to a wholesale warehouse.

I bought bulk stationery, warm jackets, and basic toiletries.

The children in the rural mountains needed these things more than I needed Vivienne's pity.

When I got home, the house was filled with the smell of vanilla and sugar.

Vivienne, Alastair, and Wren were in the kitchen, covered in flour, laughing as they baked a cake.

Wren saw me and immediately threw a handful of sprinkles at my chest.

"Bad man! Get out of my house!" she screamed.

Alastair pulled her back, his face a mask of fake concern.

"Everett, I'm so sorry. Wren is struggling with some emotional issues..."

"She really believes Vivienne is her mother. You wouldn't be cruel to a child with trauma, would you?"

He was laying the guilt on thick, trying to bait me into a fight.

In the past, I would have argued. Now, I just nodded.

"Trauma is serious. You should probably focus on her mental health instead of baking."

Vivienne and Alastair both stared at me, stunned by my lack of emotion.

I walked straight past them and into my bedroom.

If she wanted to play house with her ex, she was more than welcome to do it without me.