Chapter 2

The next day, Roman didn't come home alone. He walked in holding Tiffany's hand.

"Corinne, we need to talk."

I looked up at him, a thread of unease pulling tight in my chest. He had never brought a woman home before, let alone paraded one in front of me.

"Tiffany's grandfather is seriously ill. His only wish is to see her get married."

I frowned slightly. "And?"

Roman hesitated before finally saying it. "So, we need to get a divorce."

The air in the room went still.

A divorce?

I had endured ten years of this. I was so close to the finish line that I could taste it, and now, right at the last stretch, he wanted to throw me out?

When I didn't speak for a long time, something like guilt flickered across Roman's face. "It's just for a month. Once her grandfather passes peacefully, we'll remarry right away."

Tiffany let the tears fall right on cue. "Please, Corinne. I'm begging you."

She walked toward me, and her knees started to buckle like she was actually going to kneel. "The doctors say he only has a few days left."

I didn't move, but my mind was racing. If I wasn't legally Mrs. Blackwell when Roman died, how much of the estate would I lose? The thought of Tiffany and my three children fighting over the inheritance made my stomach turn.

No. I couldn't let that happen. For the original Corinne, for my children, and for myself, I had to hold on to my position as Roman's wife.

I looked Roman straight in the eye. "New Year's is right around the corner, and the family gathering is coming up. Don't embarrass everyone in front of the relatives. Wait until after the holiday, and then you two can put on whatever show you want."

"No!" Tiffany shrieked, tears pouring instantly.

"I'm afraid my grandfather won't make it that long!"

She dropped to her knees for real this time, fingers clutching the hem of my pants, her eyes red and swollen. "Please, Corinne. He's the only family I have left. If he doesn't get to see me married, he won't be able to rest in peace, and I won't want to go on living either."

The way Roman looked at her was pure anguish, and when he turned to me, irritation had crept into his expression. "Corinne, just do me this one favor. It's not an unreasonable ask."

I smiled bitterly. "Roman, I've been doing you favors for ten years. You've had 49 mistresses, and I never once lost my temper at you or said a bad word about you to anyone.

"I've taken care of this house, your parents, and our three children without a single complaint. And now you want me to give up my place as your wife?"

"It's just one month!" he pressed.

"No."

I stood up, firmer than I had ever been. "That was your promise to me, and you need to keep your word."

Roman remembered his promise, and for a moment, he looked caught between the two of us.

Tiffany buried her face in her hands and sobbed. "Forget it. Forget it. I'll just go be with my grandfather."

She pulled herself up from the floor, then made a show of crumpling back down, her whole body trembling. Roman looked devastated. He pulled Tiffany into his arms and looked at me, his expression turning cold.

"Corinne, I'm not asking. You've always gone along with what I wanted, and that's not changing now."

I bit back a laugh. In my head, the plan was already forming. If I refused to sign, he'd have to go through the courts, and a contested divorce took at least two months.

In six days, on New Year's Eve, it would all be over.

When he saw me heading for the door, Roman grabbed my wrist. "Where do you think you're going?"

I gave him one cold glance. "I don't want to look at the two of you. I'm leaving."

Roman sneered, wearing the look of a man who thought he'd figured me out. "Think you can just run off and dodge the divorce? Going to tip off my parents, is that it?"

He dragged me toward the door. "We're going to the county court right now. We're getting this done today."