Chapter 3

I took the folder from him and dropped it on the coffee table. "Sign it."

Mason stared at the divorce agreement, his fingers trembling.

"I won't sign this." He looked up sharply, his eyes rimmed with red. "Nicole, it's just a broken bracelet. You want to divorce me over a bracelet? If you're angry, I'll replace it. I'll get you a dozen identical ones. Let's not get divorced. Please?"

I looked at Mason's tear-streaked face and felt nothing stir inside me anymore. "Mason, that bracelet held a flawless royal blue sapphire. My grandmother gave it to me with her own hands before she died. I told you before. That bracelet was the one thing I had left of her."

When I was a child, my parents were always busy with work, so my grandmother raised me. The year I turned 16, her health finally gave out, and I lost her.

Before she passed, she took my hand, pressed the bracelet into my palm, and said, "Nicky, I can't stay with you anymore. You have to live well. Live well, my dear."

During the first year of our marriage, I had told Mason exactly what that bracelet meant to me. More than once, I had reminded him that it was all I had left of her.

"Nicky, I'm sorry." Mason's expression froze. "I... I was wrong. I know I was wrong. I really do. Can't you forgive me just this once?"

He lowered himself further, his voice fading to almost nothing.

His father quickly came to his defense. "Nicky, Mason just lost his head for a moment. Men can be careless sometimes. I'll have someone get the bracelet back right away. Give him one more chance. He'll change this time. He will. I promise you."

I smiled coldly. "So one 'I know I was wrong' erases everything he's done?"

"Nicky, don't worry. We'll handle the situation with Cecelia too." His father cut in again and shot Mason a pointed look, clearly afraid his son would miss the cue.

Mason caught on and grabbed my hand. "I'll transfer Cecelia to a branch office right away. You'll never have to see her again. Nicky, let's not get divorced. Please?"

His tears fell onto the back of my hand. His grief looked genuine.

Something inside me softened. "This is the last time."

As soon as I gave in, Mason wiped the tears from his face and called the company's HR department. Right in front of me, he arranged for Cecelia to be transferred to a branch office.

That night, he returned the bracelet to me.

…

For the next two weeks, Mason genuinely seemed like a different man. He came home on time every day, put on an apron, and busied himself in the kitchen.

"Try this." He placed a honey-glazed rib on my plate. "I spent all afternoon learning how to make it."

I looked up at him. A dusting of flour still clung to his forehead. His eyes held a careful uncertainty.

"Mm." I lowered my gaze and continued eating.

…

On weekends when I had shifts, he showed up at the hospital with an insulated lunch box.

"Dr. Callahan, your husband's here again?" the nurses teased.

Mason laid out the food and even brought me a cup of freshly ground coffee. "Your stomach is sensitive. Don't drink the instant stuff from the hospital," he said quietly.

I watched him fuss over everything with such care that the divorce agreement slowly gathered dust in the drawer.

…

Life settled back into its familiar rhythm, and my career quietly reached a new level.

Then I received notice from the hospital that I had been selected to join a team of specialists traveling abroad for a medical conference.

It was a rare opportunity, and I accepted without hesitation.

When I told Mason, he thoughtfully helped me pack.

On the final day of the conference, I received a message that shook me to my core. It was from the head nurse of Cardiology back at my hospital.