Chapter 3 : Picking Up the Pieces

You should probably stop putting ‘Mrs. Ryan Knight’ on your résumé.

The woman behind the reception desk didn’t even bother lowering her voice.

She smiled as she said it, but there wasn’t an ounce of kindness behind it. It was the kind of smile people wear when they’re enjoying someone else’s bad day.

I looked down at the résumé she’d pushed back across the counter.

I didn’t. She frowned. What? I don’t use my husband’s name.”

I reached for the folder and turned it around so she could see it. Eva Hart.

The name I’d been born with. The only name that still belonged to me.

Color crept into her cheeks, but instead of apologizing, she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms.

“Right. Silence stretched between us. Then she gave a little shrug.

Doesn’t really matter. I stared at her. I’m sorry?

She lowered her voice this time, though not enough to keep the security guard by the front door from hearing every word.

Everyone knows who you are. A knot tightened in my stomach.

She glanced toward the waiting area before looking back at me.

“My sister follows celebrity gossip. She showed me the article this morning.”

Of course she had.

People always slowed down for a car crash.

Especially when it belonged to someone else.

“You married Ryan Knight,” she continued. “Yesterday every business page was talking about the divorce.”

I swallowed. It’s a private matter. She laughed under her breath.

“It stopped being private the second reporters got hold of it.”

The words landed harder than I wanted to admit.

Not because they were cruel.

Because they were true. I hadn’t opened the news.

I hadn’t looked at social media.

Some naïve part of me had convinced itself the humiliation was still trapped inside the walls of our house. Apparently it wasn’t.

Apparently strangers were discussing my marriage over breakfast.

I tightened my grip on my folder until the cardboard edge dug into my palm.

“I’m here for an interview with Ms. Lawson.”

She studied me for another second. If I were you…”

She paused, almost as if she were debating whether to say it.

Then she decided she didn’t care… I’d stop wasting my time.

The words stung more than they should have.

Not because I believed her.

Because a tiny, frightened part of me was beginning to.

Before I could answer, another woman stepped out of the hallway.

Eva Hart? I looked up. She smiled warmly.

I’m Denise Lawson. Thank you for waiting.”

For the first time all morning, Someone looked at me, without judging me first.

I thanked her anyway. It surprised even me.

Maybe because if I let myself say what I was really thinking, I’d never stop.

Ms. Lawson stood as I gathered my folder. “Eva… for what it’s worth, I truly am sorry.”

I paused with my hand on the door. Would you have hired me?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Then she nodded.

“Yes. One word.

It should have made me feel better. Instead, it hurt more.

I left before she could see my face.

The elevator ride down was painfully quiet. A man in an expensive suit stepped in on the seventeenth floor, glanced at me, then politely looked away. I wondered if he recognized me too. At this point, I wasn’t sure which was worse—being recognized or being invisible.

Outside, the afternoon sun was unforgiving. Cars crawled through traffic. People hurried past with shopping bags, takeaway coffee, and phones pressed to their ears.

Life kept moving. Mine had slammed into a wall.

I walked without paying much attention to where I was going until my phone buzzed.

Unknown number. For a second, I almost ignored it. Then I answered.

Hello? Mrs. Knight?”

The voice was calm and professional.

“This is Daniel Brooks. I’m calling on behalf of Knight Holdings.”

My fingers tightened around my phone.

“I’ve already signed the divorce papers.”

“Yes, ma’am. This concerns a financial matter.”

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

“What financial matter?”

“I’m afraid all joint credit cards have been deactivated as of this morning. Access to the shared accounts has also been suspended pending completion of the asset division.”

I stopped walking. What?

“You should have received the notification by email. I haven’t checked my email.”

I understand. No, he didn’t.

He couldn’t possibly understand.

“What about my personal account? There was a brief pause.

“The balance remains unchanged. However, any automatic transfers from Mr. Knight have been cancelled. Of course they had.

Ryan hadn’t just walked out of our marriage.

He’d made sure every bridge behind him was on fire.

“Is there anything else?” I asked, surprised by how steady my voice sounded.

No, ma’am. The line went dead.

I lowered the phone slowly.

A gust of wind tugged at my hair as I looked through my purse. Wallet.

Driver’s license. A few folded bills.

Some coins. That was it.

I counted twice because I thought I’d made a mistake. Eighty-three dollars.

I stared at the money resting in my palm.

Yesterday, I hadn’t thought twice about ordering dinner from a restaurant with no prices on the menu.

Today, I was calculating how many nights eighty-three dollars would keep a roof over my head.

My phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn’t an unknown number. It was Sophia.

A photograph appeared before I even opened the message.

Ryan. Sophia. His arm around her waist.

Both of them smiling.

The caption beneath the picture was only one sentence.

He finally chose the woman he actually loves. Maybe it’s time you accepted it too.

I read it twice. Then a third time. Something inside me didn’t break. It hardened.

I lifted my head, wiped my eyes before a single tear could fall, and looked at the city stretching out in front of me.

“You’re not going to destroy what’s left of me,” I whispered.

Even if I had to start over with eighty-three dollars in my purse…

I would. My phone rang again. Unknown number.

This time, I answered without hesitation.

“Eva Hart? A deep male voice filled the line.

“I believe we need to talk about Ryan Knight.”