Chapter 4

Before I left for good, I went back to the Whitmore house.

Not to say goodbye.

I was there to get my personal documents.

When my mother opened the door, the first thing she did was look over my shoulder.

"Graham didn't come with you?"

"I came alone."

I walked past her toward the home office.

"I need my documents."

My father was drinking tea. He looked up.

"What do you need them for?"

"Divorce."

His teacup hit the desk with a sharp clink.

"Don't be ridiculous!"

He pulled a file from the drawer and tossed it in front of me.

"Read this before you make any more of a scene."

I looked down.

It was an investment agreement from three years ago.

The date on it was seven days before my wedding.

Hale Group had invested $5 million in Whitmore Group.

As long as Graham Hale and Dawn Whitmore remained married, Whitmore Group would continue receiving financial backing from Hale Group and receive priority consideration for future partnerships.

The final page bore my father's signature.

My mother's.

And Graham's.

I stared at the three names and thought back to the night before my wedding.

My mother had brushed my hair, her eyes red as she said, "Dawn, Graham is a good man. The fact that he wants to marry you means you matter to him."

I'd cried like a fool that night.

Now I understood. They'd only been afraid the deal might fall through at the last minute.

I looked up. "So this is the contract you used to sell me off?"

My father's face darkened.

"Sell you? This family raised you. What's wrong with doing something for us in return?"

"Then why wasn't it Celeste?"

My mother blurted out, "Back then, your sister was already married!"

The moment the words left her mouth, her face went pale.

I laughed.

"So if she hadn't been married, I never would've been the one Graham married."

A faint sound came from outside the home office.

Celeste stood in the doorway.

"Dawn, I tried to talk Mom and Dad out of it."

"Out of what?"

I walked toward her, one step at a time.

"Out of telling me the truth? Or out of putting such an ugly price tag on my marriage?"

Celeste bit her lip.

"I was miserable with the Carvers back then. They looked down on the Whitmores, and they looked down on me."

"So I deserved this?"

She shook her head through her tears.

"That's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?"

I looked at her tearful face.

"You knew Graham had feelings for you. You knew he married me to give you more standing with the Carvers. You knew I had a miscarriage. You knew that bracelet belonged to my baby.

"And you still showed up in front of him at 6:20 in the morning.

"You still wore that bracelet and said it was supposed to keep bad luck away from you."

Celeste went deathly pale.

I lowered my voice. "Celeste, it's not that you never meant to hurt me.

"You just wanted to make sure that no matter who I married, I'd still lose to you."

My father snapped, "Enough! Dawn Whitmore, if you go through with this divorce, you're no daughter of mine!"

I nodded.

"Fine."

I pulled out my phone and took pictures of the agreement.

My father lunged for it.

I stepped back.

"I already sent them to my attorney."

Behind me, Celeste suddenly said, "Dawn, Graham might fight the divorce."

I stopped.

Her eyes were full of tears, but there was a quiet certainty underneath them.

"You know how seriously he takes his responsibilities."

I turned back to her.

"Then we'll see how much that sense of responsibility is really worth."

When I got back to the house, Graham was already waiting in the living room.

The divorce papers were on the coffee table.

His expression was cold.

"You went to your parents'?"

"Yeah."

"And you met with an attorney?"

"Yeah."

He stared at me.

"Who told you you could look into that agreement?"

I pulled out my suitcase.

"You all lied to me for three years, and now you're angry that I found out?"

Graham was silent for a moment.

"Things were complicated back then."

"So complicated you had to lie to me just to get me down the aisle?"

His brows drew together.

"I didn't lie to you."

"On our wedding day, you whispered in my ear that you'd be good to me."

I looked at him.

"Graham, were you thinking about me then? Or were you thinking that Celeste could finally hold her head up around the Carvers?"

His expression finally changed.

I dragged my suitcase toward the door.

He grabbed the handle.

"Where are you going?"

"Leaving."

"And where exactly do you think you're going to go?"

His voice dropped, tinged with an arrogance he didn't even seem to notice.

"The Whitmores won't take you back.

"You still haven't recovered. If you walk out now, who are you going to rely on?"

I looked up at him.

"Myself."

Graham stared at me as if I'd said something absurd.

Then he suddenly pulled me into his arms.

"Dawn, stop this."

For the first time, his voice softened.

"I won't see Celeste anymore.

"The bracelet was my fault.

"Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you."

There had been a time when I'd dreamed of hearing those words.

But now, held in his arms, all I felt was cold.

I asked quietly, "Graham, do you know why I'm not crying anymore?"

His body went rigid.

I pushed him away.

"Because I don't love you anymore."

Behind me, his voice turned hoarse.

"Dawn Whitmore, say that again."

I didn't turn around.

"I said I don't love you anymore."

I walked out.

The next second, Graham's smartwatch suddenly started vibrating against his wrist.

He looked down.

His heart rate was 168 bpm.

At the same time, a health alert appeared on his phone:

[High stress detected.]

For the first time in our three-year marriage, his heart raced out of control because of me.

And for the first time, he understood with absolute clarity that I was really done with him.