The manila envelope felt heavier than it should have.

I sat in my car outside the attorney's office, staring at the damn thing like it might explode. Inside was proof that my nine-year marriage to Rowan Blackwood had officially ended.

Nine years. Three thousand two hundred and eighty-five days of loving a man who looked at me like I was a mistake he couldn't undo.

My phone buzzed. A text from my mother: Don't forget dinner tonight. Your father wants to discuss the merger.

Right. The merger. Because even on the day my marriage ended, business came first in the Sharp family.

I typed back a quick I'll be there and tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. The divorce papers rustled as I pulled them out, and I forced myself to read the final decree one more time.

The marriage between Ava Marie Sharp and Rowan James Blackwood is hereby dissolved...

Dissolved. Like we were a corporation being liquidated. Maybe that was fitting. Our marriage had been a business transaction from the start, arranged by our families when Rowan's startup needed capital and my father wanted a powerful son-in-law.

The only problem? Rowan had been in love with someone else.

Still was, if the way he'd built our house to her exact specifications was any indication. Every room, every color, every fucking doorknob was chosen because she would have liked it.

I never stood a chance.

My hands shook as I shoved the papers back into the envelope and started the car. Noah would be home from school soon, and I'd promised him chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. At nine years old, my son was the only good thing that had come from this disaster of a marriage.

The drive to the mansion took twenty minutes. I still couldn't believe Rowan had let me keep the house in the settlement. Then again, it made sense. He'd probably already bought a new place. One without memories of the wife he'd been forced to tolerate.

Rowan's black Mercedes was parked in the driveway.

My stomach clenched. He wasn't supposed to be here. We'd agreed to coordinate pickups and drop-offs through text to avoid unnecessary interaction.

I grabbed my bag and the envelope, my heels clicking against the stone pathway as I approached the front door. Inside, I could hear Noah's laughter—bright and pure, the only sound in this house that had ever felt like home.

I found them in the living room. Noah was curled up next to his father on the leather couch, both of them hunched over Rowan's phone, watching some video that had them both cracking up.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching. This was what Rowan looked like when he was happy. Relaxed. Human. He never looked like that with me.

"Mom!" Noah spotted me first, his face lighting up. "Dad came to pick me up early! We got ice cream!"

"I see that," I said, forcing a smile. "Did you save me any?"

"Dad ate it all." Noah grinned.

Rowan glanced up, his expression shifting from warm to carefully neutral in an instant. "Your phone was off."

"I was at the attorney's office." I set my bag down on the side table, my fingers brushing the envelope. "The papers are finalized."

Something flickered in his eyes. Anger? Relief? I couldn't tell anymore. I'd spent nine years trying to read this man and failed every single time.

"You could've texted me," he said.

"I didn't think you'd care."

Noah's head swiveled between us, his smile fading. "Are you guys fighting again?"

"No, sweetheart." I crossed to him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm just going to change. Be right back."

I didn't wait for Rowan's response. I just walked down the hallway to our—my—bedroom and shut the door behind me.

The room still smelled like him. Cedar and something darker, something that had always made my pulse race even when I knew better. I'd spent nine years sleeping next to him, and he'd never once held me unless we were having sex. And even then, it felt mechanical. Necessary.

I stripped off my blazer and heels, changing into jeans and a soft sweater. When I came back out, I could hear Noah's voice drifting down the hall.

"Why are you and Mom getting a divorce?"

I froze. My hand went to my chest, my heart suddenly racing.

"It's complicated," Rowan said, his voice oddly gentle. He only ever used that tone with Noah.

"How?" Noah pressed. "You're either together or you're not."

"You know why, Noah. Your mother and I... we're just not meant to be together."

I closed my eyes. Not meant to be. Like fate had anything to do with it. Like he hadn't spent every day of our marriage making it crystal clear that I was second choice. Third choice. Not even on the list.

"Is it because you don't love us anymore?"

The words hit me like a physical blow. I had to grip the wall to stay upright.

"What?" Rowan sounded genuinely startled. "Who told you that?"

"Nobody." Noah's voice was small now. "I just... I haven't seen Mom with anyone else. So maybe you love someone else now?"

I needed to stop this. Right now. Before Rowan said something that would shatter what was left of my heart.

I stepped into the room, my voice as steady as I could make it. "That's enough, Noah."

Rowan's gaze snapped to me, sharp and accusing. Like this was somehow my fault.

I ignored him and turned to my son. "Go pack your overnight bag, sweetheart. You're staying with your dad this weekend, remember?"

"But—"

"Now, Noah."

He huffed but obeyed, trudging up the stairs to his room. The second he was gone, Rowan stood, his jaw tight.

"What the hell have you been telling him?"

"Nothing," I shot back. "He's nine, Rowan. He's trying to make sense of why his parents can't stand to be in the same room together."

"You made me the villain."

I laughed—sharp and bitter. "I didn't have to. You did that all by yourself."

His eyes flashed. "I tolerated you for nine years, Ava. Nine years of pretending that this marriage was anything other than a mistake. You trapped me—"

"I didn't trap you." My voice broke despite my best efforts. "Your family needed my father's money. You agreed to this marriage just like I did."

"And I regretted it every single day."

The words landed like knives. I'd known it. Of course I'd known it. But hearing him say it out loud, with so much venom in his voice...

"Get out," I whispered.

"What?"

"Get. Out." Louder this time. "Take Noah and go. I don't want to see you right now."

For a moment, he just stared at me. Then he grabbed his jacket and headed for the stairs. "Noah! Let's go!"

I stood there, trembling, as they left. The front door slammed shut. The sound of Rowan's car engine faded into the distance.

And then my phone rang.

MOTHER.

I almost didn't answer. But my mother never called unless it was important.

I swiped the screen. "Hello—"

"Get to the hospital. Now." Her voice was frantic, choked. "Your father's been shot."

The phone slipped from my hand.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move.

Then I was running. Grabbing my keys. My bag. The divorce papers forgotten on the table.

My father. Shot.

This couldn't be happening. Not today. Not—

I made it to my car, my hands shaking so badly I could barely get the key in the ignition.

And as I peeled out of the driveway, one thought kept circling through my mind:

Everything just changed.

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