PROLOGUE

"Some things don’t break because they fall. They break because someone chooses to drop them."

I didn’t cry when I said it.

God knows I was past that phase. I used to think that when you love someone, letting them go would destroy you. But the truth is, it felt more like opening a door and kicking out a ghost that had been squatting in the corner of my heart without paying rent.

I sat across from him. The cold marble table between us, always making this house feel more like a luxury hotel than a home.

Theo stood by the window, backlit, hands in the pockets of his gray slacks, shoulders far too relaxed for a husband who’d just been caught sleeping with another woman.

I stared at that arrogant back of his.

“I think we’re done,” I said flatly. Like I’d just told him the food was under-seasoned. Not that I wanted a divorce.

He didn’t answer. Of course not. Theo always chose silence when words felt too... human for him. He just turned, slowly, his face exactly as always. Calm, elegant, like a man who knows he could make you fall in love and regret it in the same breath.

“What makes you think we ever started anything?” he asked at last.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Funny. I almost believed our marriage was real.”

He stepped closer, his pace unhurried. No apology in his voice. No guilt in his eyes. Only that maddening pull...this strange fascination that never died, even after I killed everything else I felt.

“You think this is about her?” His low voice poured out like expensive poison. “You think this is about me sleeping with another woman?”

I raised an eyebrow. “No. That was just the final spark before this house went up in flames. Don’t flatter yourself.”

His gaze hardened. But I didn’t flinch. I’d bowed my head enough in the past two years. Held my breath just so I wouldn’t mess with the rhythm of his perfect little life. I wasn’t a wife. I was filler. A silent plus-one who looked good in charity gala photos.

Theo stared at me for a long moment. Then his eyes dropped to the brown envelope on the table. Inside was the divorce paper.

Signed.

“So this is your decision?”

“Yes. Before I change my mind and slash your tires.” I smiled, sharp and sarcastic. “Think of it as my last act of love.”

“And what is it you want now?” each word pressed against my chest.

I took a breath. A deep one.

“I want to walk out of this room and never look back. I want to sleep through the night without imagining you touching her the way you used to touch me. I want to feel like someone again. Not just the wife of a company heir who doesn’t even know when my birthday is.”

Theo watched me like he was counting the beats of my heart. “I don’t love you, Dianna,” he said.

No surprise. No remorse, either. Maybe my heart had grown numb from letting him hurt it too many times.

“I know, Theo,” I said quietly. “The thing is... I did love you.”

I stood up. Grabbed my purse. Picked up my dignity. And walked out of the room where I once dreamed of building a family.

No tears. No screaming.

Just footsteps that, for the first time in a long time, felt like they were mine.