Chapter 1

"Figures — nobody's kid. Can't even hold on to a husband."

Sebastian had barely stepped out of the ballroom before the voices started up behind me.

One of his friends lifted a glass and looked me up and down.

"Seven years clinging to him like a barnacle. You didn't deserve the seat. Of course you lost it."

"Even his own kid rolled a six. You can't fight fate, sweetheart."

I didn't do what I would have done a year ago. I didn't turn red-eyed. I didn't fight back.

I just bent down, quiet, and lifted Logan into my arms, and walked for the doors.

The night wind cut straight through the thin silk of my dress.

I'd just reached the car when I heard quick footsteps behind me.

"Nora!"

Sebastian had actually come back. He caught my wrist.

He was breathing fast. The hem of his tailored jacket was pulled around by the wind.

"Why aren't you—" His brow tightened. His throat worked.

"Why aren't I what?" I pulled my wrist free and looked at him, cold. "Why aren't I threatening to kill myself to keep you from going?"

Something crossed his face and darted away again — caught out.

Seven years into a marriage, there had always been an unspoken arrangement between Sebastian, his friends, and Serena.

Every time she flew back from overseas, the boys would roll dice.

Whoever rolled a six picked her up at the airport.

I'd lost count of how many sixes Sebastian had rolled.

In the old days, I'd made a scene.

The worst time, I'd held a jagged shard of glass to my own throat.

I'd used my life as leverage to beg him not to go.

In one screaming fit after another, something in me had broken.

By the end, just the sound of her name could trigger a physical reaction.

I glanced down at my arms, at the web of pale scars there.

He was still frozen in place. I took a long breath.

"If you're seeing Ms. Holloway tonight, clean yourself up first."

I let him stand there while I straightened his crooked collar.

"You've been helping with Logan. There's stubble all along your jaw."

"Go. Fix yourself up. She'll be waiting."

His mouth opened. He looked like he wanted to say something.

"Sebastian! What's the holdup? Car's here."

His friends were yelling at him from the curb. One ran over and pulled him by the elbow.

He kept turning back toward me as they hauled him away.

I watched the taillights disappear into the night.

What could he possibly have had to say to me?

The first year of our marriage, Sebastian and I had spoken one sentence to each other. Total.

And that was him snapping shut up, because I'd said too much.

I went back to the empty house and handed Logan to our housekeeper.

Mrs. Linley took one look at my face, started to say something, then sighed instead.

I went up to the master suite, pulled the divorce papers out from the bottom of my nightstand — I'd had them ready for weeks — and turned to the last page.

On the line for the spouse's signature, I wrote my name.

Nora Pemberton.

In that moment I thought I would cry. I didn't.

All these years I'd held on like someone drowning, hands clenched around nothing.

Letting go, I felt lighter than I had in a long time.

I went into the nursery and stood over the crib, watching Logan sleep.

For the first time in I didn't know how long, I curled up next to him and slept through, dreamless.

When I woke, the sky had gone full dark.

My son was breathing steadily beside me.

I looked down at his round little face and wanted, desperately, to take him with me.

But I couldn't.

I couldn't give him the life he deserved. I couldn't be the foundation under his feet.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number I'd memorized a long time ago.