Chapter 4

Before I can say anything, Leah bursts into tears and runs out of the house.

Victor frowns at me.

“Stop making trouble.”

Then he casually shoves a business card into my hand.

A tattoo removal clinic.

“When you have time, go get it removed.”

Then he turns and goes after her without looking at me again.

I don’t even look at the card. My heart is terrifyingly calm. I lift my hand and toss it into the trash.

Then I call Elena.

“I want a divorce from Victor.”

“And don’t tell him about the surgery yet.”

Her reaction is far more intense than mine. I can barely calm her down.

“Has he lost his mind? Taking the side of that fake little bitch?”

“Do you need me to do anything? Have you told him?”

I actually laugh.

“No. He probably won’t agree. I’ll find a lawyer first. I’m moving out tomorrow.”

“He won’t agree? What the hell gives him the right not to agree?”

I smile bitterly.

She doesn’t understand.

These are the eyes of the woman he loved. How could he ever bear to let them leave?

I draft the divorce agreement.

Print it. Sign it. Quickly. Cleanly.

Once I’m done, my phone suddenly rings.

“Ivy, the Academy still won’t approve your explanation. Mostly because they already have a new candidate.”

“Oh, and your husband personally recommended her.”

My chest tightens.

I struggle to speak.

“Who?”

“A girl named Leah Valenti. I heard your husband wrote her a recommendation letter that was over two thousand words.”

I don’t hear another word after that.

My eyes fall on the corner of the living room.

A piano sits there.

Victor bought it for me when I was supposedly rejected. He told me then that he would always be my audience.

My eyes burn.

I laugh. And the tears won’t stop.

The next second, I grab the piano bench and slam it down onto the keys.

Sometime after midnight, I wake to a faint, crackling sound.

I sit upright in bed.

My hand flies to my collarbone. The skin is numb.

They gave me an anesthetic.

My tattoo is gone.

The skin beneath my collarbone is swollen and burning, and the pain is slowly pushing through the numbness.

Victor’s gaze darkens.

But before he can say anything, Leah laughs.

“Victor asked me what he could do to make me forgive him.”

“I told him I wanted that black rose under your collarbone removed. Because you don’t deserve to wear the family crest on your body.”

She smiles.

“I didn’t expect Victor to agree without even thinking twice.”

I’m shaking with anger.

Victor, however, looks completely justified.

“Tattoo ink residue isn’t good for your eyes.”

“Ivy, I did this for your own good.”

My eyes turn red.

I almost laugh from anger.

But before I can answer, Leah rubs her stomach and starts to whine.

“Okay, okay. I’m not mad anymore.”

“Come on, Victor. Let’s get something to eat. I have my piano recital tomorrow.”

She pushes him toward the bedroom door.

But Victor suddenly stops.

“Ivy, I had the kitchen make you the seafood chowder you like. You should come eat too.”

“Oh, and I remember you play the piano too. I’ll take you to Leah’s recital tomorrow.”

I look toward the mirror.

My gaze falls on the swollen, red skin beneath my collarbone. I can’t bring myself to look away.

I’ve never liked seafood chowder.

I’m allergic to shellfish.

I get up and start packing.

By the time I walk out of the house, it is exactly midnight.

The mug with Victor and Selena’s photograph is sitting in the center of the coffee table.

The house has gained another thing he carefully treasures.

I take off my wedding ring.

Without expression, I drop it into the mug.

Then I call Elena again.

“Schedule the second corneal transplant for tomorrow.”

I’m giving him back the eyes of the woman he loved.

From now on, I will belong to no one but myself.

The next morning.

A notification appears on Victor’s phone.

[NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital: Pre-operative information for patient Ivy Moretti’s second corneal transplant. Please have an authorized family member arrive for verification.]