Chapter 3

3.

I tapped on his profile picture.

Even now, his background was still that photo of us.

It was from our wedding day, on the lawn in Central Park. He was looking down at me. I was in my white gown, looking up and smiling. For once, he wasn't putting on an act; the corners of his lips were turned up, too. The photographer had captured a perfect moment. The sunlight that day was as soft as a lie, making it seem like we were actually in love.

I tapped the screen and blocked him.

Twenty minutes later, I went downstairs to the dining room. My parents were there.

My mom was cutting fruit. She looked up. "Why are your eyes so puffy?"

"Slept too much," I mumbled.

"If you couldn't sleep, just say so. Your brother just slammed his fork down and said he's going over to Julian's to beat the hell out of that bastard!"

"Sit down," my mom said, pulling my furious brother back. She sighed and turned to me. "Nora, marriage isn't a game. Maybe there was a misunderstanding. You should talk to Julian, really talk. Maybe it's like all the other times, you'll work it out..."

I set down my coffee cup, the porcelain making a sharp clink against the saucer.

"Mom, Dad, the divorce papers are already signed. We're just waiting for the lawyers to process them."

Everyone at the table froze.

My father put down his Wall Street Journal. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "But the merger between our family's company and the Ashford Group is still in progress..."

"Marriage is marriage. Business is business. I told him my personal life won't affect our companies' partnership."

My father nodded, said nothing more, and picked up his newspaper again.

My mother let out a soft sigh and pushed the plate of cut fruit toward me.

Just then, my phone lit up.

It was my best friend, Zoe.

"Two o'clock. The usual spot. Brunch. No excuses, get over here."

"Go ahead," my mom said. "It'll be good for you to get out."

Half an hour later, I was at our favorite French bistro.

Zoe had already ordered. I had just put two macarons on my plate when she started in on me.

"How can you even think about eating right now?" She glared at me, a look of pure exasperation on her face. "That Lily is practically walking all over you."

She put down her fork, her eyes suddenly sharp.

"This is not happening. Tonight, we're catching them in the act. I've got the hotel, the time, the room number. Everything."

I laughed. "Have you been watching too many soap operas?"

She stared at me, pointing her fork in the air.

"I'm serious."

I popped a macaron into my mouth, picked up my tea, and ignored her.

"Nora."

The voice came from above me.

I didn't look up.

Zoe's fork froze mid-air. She stared at something behind me like she'd seen a ghost.

Lily was standing by our table, holding a coffee cup.

Her eyes were downcast, her lashes curled, and a soft, harmless smile played on her lips.

"What a coincidence, you guys are here too."

Zoe snorted. "Coincidence? We've been sitting here for forty minutes. You're just seeing us now?"

Lily didn't answer her, just kept looking at me.

"Nora, I wanted to explain about those pictures."

I didn't say anything, just kept cutting my pancakes.

She waited a couple of seconds before continuing on her own.

"Julian and I were really just talking about work last night. Nothing else happened. The pictures were just a bad angle. I don't know who took them or why they were posted like that..."

She paused, her voice dropping, full of hurt.

"I've always been so envious of you. Being by his side for so many years, officially."

Zoe threw her fork down with a clatter. "You're envious? Is this your way of showing it? Posting an Instagram Story at three in the morning with your location tagged at his hotel?"