Chapter 1

1.

Three days after the wild wedding party for our friends, I asked Julian for a divorce.

"Was it because I drank that round for Lily at the club that night?" He stubbed out his cigarette, his lips curling into that familiar, casual smile.

"Yes."

"Objection overruled." He chuckled, like a lawyer dismissing a trivial motion in court. "Stop fooling around, Nora."

For three of our four years in college, I followed him around like a shadow.

He was used to it―used to me always being there, just a glance away, like the lights of Manhattan that never go out.

But he would never know.

That drink was just the last straw.

I had already signed the offer from that top consulting firm in Frankfurt last week. The deposit for my new apartment was already in an overseas account.

Julian, this time, I'm the one leaving you.

Since that place in your heart will always be reserved for your "innocent girl"―

Then I will completely erase my own name from the script of your life.

...

"Just because I took that shot for Lily the other night?"

Julian's long fingers tapped on the mahogany desk, a rhythm he used when scolding an underling. The afternoon sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Wall Street office, highlighting the sharp line of his brow. He leaned forward, looking at me like I was a little girl throwing a tantrum.

"Nora, is it really that serious?"

I met his gaze, a slight smile on my lips. "It is."

He pressed his right hand to his temple, rubbing it slowly and heavily―his signature move when his patience was wearing thin.

"Are you sure," his Montblanc pen hovered over the separation agreement, "that if you sign this, you won't come back crying for me to take you back in a few days?"

My breath caught.

The tip of the pen tapped lightly on the "Asset Division" section, making a soft, unnerving sound.

"What was the last divorce threat about?" He looked up, his dark brown eyes empty of warmth. "You waited for me in the rain for four hours outside City Hall, begging me to come home. How many days did that last?"

He leaned back, the expensive leather of his chair groaning softly.

"This time, are you sure you can last three months?"

I looked up at him, my voice soft, but every syllable was crystal clear. "This time, it's for good."

"Begging you to come back," I paused, letting the words sink in, "will never happen again."

"Fine." He let out a short laugh. He didn't move from his chair, his eyes screaming, "I don't believe you."

I didn't say another word.

The agreement I had just signed was growing warm in my hands, its edges crumpled from my grip.

The moment I pulled open the heavy mahogany door, I saw her, the woman standing at the end of the hall.

She was holding a latte, leaning against the window and watching the Manhattan traffic crawl by like ants below.

The afternoon sun created a halo around her profile. I stopped in my tracks.

The woman turned her head at the sound.

Now I could see her clearly―the picture of innocence. Pale skin, slightly furrowed brows, and eyes that always seemed to hold a misty gaze. The kind of look that made men instinctively lower their voices, that sparked a desire to protect.

"Nora?" The woman spoke first, her voice soft and sweet, but the words were like velvet laced with thorns. "I heard you and Julian are fighting about a divorce?"