Chapter 2: Leaving

“You can go.”

Luke kept his eyes on the papers as Miller and Warry left. The door clicked shut behind them, but he did not reach for his pen.

Yesterday, Dexie had refused to sign. Today, she had returned the agreement with terms that gave him everything and left her with nothing.

He read her signature again.

The writing was firm. She had not crossed anything out or left part of the agreement unsigned. Even the stock transfer was complete.

Luke gave a cold scoff and pushed the papers aside.

There had to be a reason. Perhaps she thought refusing his money would make him feel guilty. Perhaps she expected him to call and ask what she wanted.

He picked up the file he had been reading before Miller arrived.

After a few lines, he realized he had taken in none of it.

Luke started again, pressing a finger against the page to hold his place. Still, his thoughts returned to the same words.

As soon as possible.

Dexie had always wanted more time. More time to talk, more time together, more time to make their marriage work.

Now she was asking him to end it quickly.

His grip tightened around the file. He set it down before he bent the cover.

If this was another attempt to get his attention, she had chosen a strange way to do it.

Luke glanced at the divorce agreement again.

What bothered him most was that he could not find a single demand.

“Mrs. Dawson, are you leaving?”

Dexie stopped at the bottom of the staircase. Her suitcase stood beside her, and a maid was looking between it and the front door.

“I’m moving out,” Dexie said.

The maid’s eyes widened. “Should I call someone to help with your things?”

“This is all I’m taking.”

Dexie rested her hand on the suitcase handle. Packing had taken less time than she expected. Once she stopped setting aside things she might need if she stayed, the choice became simple.

She had packed what belonged to her.

The maid hesitated, and Dexie recognized the pity in her face. The staff had seen her waiting downstairs long after dinner was over. They had brought her food that went cold while she listened for Luke’s car.

There was no point pretending they knew nothing.

“Are you really divorcing Mr. Dawson?” the maid asked quietly.

“Yes.”

The answer came easily, though saying it aloud made the moment feel more real.

The maid lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dawson.”

Dexie gave her a small smile. “Thank you for taking care of me this past year.”

“You’ve always been kind to us.”

For a moment, Dexie did not know what to say. She had spent so much time trying to make Luke notice her that she had barely considered who else was watching.

“I’m glad,” she said.

She picked up her suitcase and started toward the door. Then she stopped, remembering the garden.

“One more thing. Please have someone remove the Malus trees.”

The maid stared at her. “The ones you planted?”

“Yes.”

“But you spent so much time on them.”

Dexie looked toward the garden.

She remembered kneeling beside the young trees, pressing soil around their roots with her own hands. She had planned where each one would stand and imagined how the garden would look as they grew.

Back then, she had hoped Luke might stop beside her one afternoon. He might ask about the trees, and she would finally have something to share with him that was not an argument about their marriage.

She had imagined such a small moment so many times.

It had never happened.

“Luke doesn’t like them,” she said. “Please have them removed.”

The maid opened her mouth, then closed it.

Dexie did not wait for another question. The wheels of her suitcase made a low sound across the floor as she walked to the door.

Outside, she paused long enough to take a full breath.

Then she left.

When Luke returned that evening, an excavator was standing near the garden.

He stopped beside the path.

Several workers were pulling a Malus tree from the ground. Loose soil fell from its roots, and the machine’s engine rumbled as another man signaled where to move it.

Luke’s expression darkened.

Winston hurried toward him. “Sir, I’ll have them stop.”

Luke looked at the trees already lying on the ground.

He knew who had planted them. Dexie had spent hours out here, sometimes coming inside with dirt on her hands and a pleased expression on her face.

He had never understood why she put so much effort into the garden.

Now someone was removing everything she had planted.

Luke said nothing. He walked past Winston and entered the mansion.

The familiar rooms gave him no reason to slow down, yet he found himself listening as he climbed the stairs. Usually, Dexie would hear him arrive. If she did not come downstairs, he would find her waiting in the bedroom.

He pushed the door open.

The room looked almost the same.

The curtains were in place. The bed was neat. The chair by the window stood where it always had.

It was empty.

Dexie often sat there with a book while she waited for him. Some nights, she fell asleep before he returned. The sound of the door would wake her, and she would sit up, still tired, to ask whether he had eaten.

Then she would ask about his day.

Luke loosened his tie.

He had rarely given her more than a brief answer. Sometimes he had walked straight past her because he did not want questions after a long day.

Tonight, there were none.

He tossed his tie aside and looked around more carefully.

The bookshelf caught his attention first. Gaps stood between the books. Half of Dexie’s collection was gone.

Luke crossed the room and opened the closet.

Her side was empty.

He pulled the door wider, though there was nothing hidden behind it. No dresses, no coats, none of the clothes he had grown used to seeing beside his own.

She had packed them all.

“This is just another game,” he said.

His voice sounded louder than he expected in the quiet room.

“She wants me to think she’s serious.”

Luke kept his hand on the closet door.

The claim should have made sense. Dexie had refused the divorce only yesterday. People did not simply stop wanting a marriage overnight.

But she had returned the settlement and her shares. She had taken her clothes and books. Outside, workers were removing the trees she had planted.

Each thing he noticed made it harder to dismiss her departure.

He closed the closet slowly.

For the first time, he could not point to anything she had left behind and tell himself she would come back for it.

By the time Dexie reached her apartment, the sky was growing dark.

She unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling her suitcase after her. The air was fresh, the surfaces clean. Paying someone to maintain the place while she lived at the mansion had been a good decision.

She had kept this apartment without thinking much about why.

Now she was grateful she could return without asking anyone for help.

Dexie placed her suitcase beside the sofa and stood in the middle of the room.

No one was expecting her to wait for a husband who might not come home. She did not need to plan a meal around his schedule or wonder whether asking a question would annoy him.

She could sit down because she wanted to.

That simple thought made her slowly exhale.

Dexie rested for a while, then looked at the suitcase. Unpacking could wait. There were still matters connected to her old life that she needed to settle.

Leaving the mansion was only the beginning.

Later, she took her phone and keys and went to Dawson Corporation.

“No lunch today, Mrs. Dawson?”

Dexie had barely reached Cindy when the secretary spoke.

The smile on Cindy’s face told her the question was not meant kindly.

“Didn’t you hear?” Cindy continued. “President Dawson threw away everything you made for him.”

Dexie stopped.

Once, those words would have hurt enough to send her straight home. She would have replayed them while wondering what she had done wrong and whether Luke disliked the food or simply disliked receiving it from her.

Now she looked at Cindy.

“You seem pleased about that.”

Cindy’s smile faltered, then returned. “I’m only telling you what happened.”

“No. You waited until you saw me so you could say it.”

A little color rose in Cindy’s face.

In the past, Dexie had ignored her remarks. Causing trouble at Luke’s company would only have given him another reason to resent her.

That reason no longer mattered.

“Perhaps you should stop bringing things he doesn’t want,” Cindy said.

Dexie stepped closer.

Before Cindy could move away, Dexie caught her chin and held her face still.

“Let go of me!”

“Have I not been kind enough to you?” Dexie asked.

Cindy tried to pull back, but Dexie held on.

“Stop struggling. I might accidentally hurt you.”

Cindy became still. Her eyes widened, and Dexie could feel the tension in her jaw beneath her fingers.

The fear did not erase what she had said.

“For an entire year, I wondered why Luke barely came home,” Dexie said. “I kept thinking he had too much work.”

“That has nothing to do with me.”

“Then why are you so comfortable mocking his wife?”

Cindy’s lips parted.

Dexie studied her face. The remarks, the pleasure she took in Luke’s rejection, and the way she spoke about him all suggested something Dexie could not prove.

She would no longer pretend she had not noticed.

“Now I understand,” Dexie said coldly. “He was too busy keeping someone like you around.”

“You…”

Anger flashed in Cindy’s eyes. Then her gaze moved past Dexie’s shoulder.

The change was immediate.

Cindy’s face softened, and her voice dropped.

“Mrs. Dawson, you’ve misunderstood.”

Dexie noticed how carefully she spoke now.

“There has never been anything between President Dawson and me,” Cindy continued. “I’m only his secretary.”

Dexie did not turn.

Someone was behind her. Cindy’s sudden concern with looking innocent made that much clear.

“I accompany him to meetings and business dinners,” Cindy said. “That’s part of my job. Please don’t accuse me of something I haven’t done.”

Dexie slowly released her chin.

She could not prove there was an affair. Cindy’s cruel remarks did not prove it, and neither did this sudden change in her manner.

But they were enough to make Dexie question her.

“Then explain yourself properly,” she said. “And make sure you don’t lie.”

Cindy swallowed.

Only then did Dexie turn.

Luke stood several steps away.

She had not expected to see him so soon. For a brief moment, the sight of him brought back the habit of watching his face before choosing what to say.

Dexie let the moment pass.

His expression was unreadable. He looked at her, then at Cindy, who stood with lowered eyes and one hand near her chin.

No one spoke.

Dexie could not know how much Luke had heard. He had arrived quietly, and she had been facing Cindy.

Still, he had heard enough to understand the accusation.

She met his gaze without stepping away.

The divorce papers were signed. Her belongings were out of his house. Whatever relationship he had with his secretary, Dexie no longer had to spend her days trying to excuse it.

Luke continued to watch her.

This time, she did not soften her words, apologize for the scene, or offer him an easy explanation.

She waited for his answer.