Chapter 4 My Girlfriend Dropped Her Bracelet

(Sienna's POV)

Lucian studied me for a long time. "Ms. Hart, just last week Damian told me you two were trying for a baby. You've been together 15 years, and now all of a sudden you want a divorce?" He leaned forward. "What are you really up to?"

"Mr. Kane, all I need to know is whether you'll help me or not."

Lucian didn't answer right away. His gaze moved from my face to my bare ring finger, then back down to the stack of photos.

The way he looked at me made me uncomfortable. For years, Lucian had opposed everything I wanted to do. When Damian and I got engaged, he told everyone at the party it was "too soon." When I moved into Damian's apartment, he didn't come over once in six whole months. And I could still hear him on our wedding day, telling Damian, "You're going to regret this."

I didn't know if he'd go behind my back and get in my way again.

"Fine," Lucian said at last. "I'll have the power of attorney drafted tonight and send you a digital copy tomorrow. I'll find the lawyer. You don't have to worry about Damian."

He agreed so fast that it actually threw me.

"Where will you go after the divorce?" Lucian asked.

"Is that any of your business?"

Lucian didn't push. He slid the photos into his own briefcase. "I'll hold on to these for you. They'll come in handy later."

I frowned. If he had the photos, he had my trump card too. I didn't call him on it. I stood up and put my sunglasses back on. "I want this done as soon as possible. I'm sure you do too."

"I do." Lucian looked at me. "The sooner the better."

In the cab, I kept turning his "the sooner the better" over in my head. He probably really couldn't wait for me to disappear from Damian's life. So I couldn't put everything in his hands. I'd keep the original divorce agreement myself, and I wasn't going to breathe a word to him about where I was going.

The cab suddenly slammed on its brakes. I was thrown forward and hit the back of the front seat hard.

The driver swore. "What the hell! Making out in the middle of the road?"

At the intersection ahead, a man had darted into the middle of traffic and bent to pick something up. He ran back to the curb and handed it to a girl. She covered her face, burst into tears, and threw herself into his arms. The two of them just stood there in the lane holding each other while the drivers behind them slammed on their brakes and honked nonstop.

The moment I saw them clearly, I went cold all over.

It was Damian and Lana. What Damian had in his hand was the bracelet from the receipt I'd found three months ago.

A middle-aged man climbed out of an SUV and yelled at him. "Take the romance home! Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?"

Damian kept one arm around Lana and raised the other in apology, smiling. "Sorry. My girlfriend dropped her bracelet, so I ran back for it."

When I heard the word "girlfriend," my hand clenched into a fist.

"Dropped or not, you don't run into traffic for it! If somebody hit you, who'd be on the hook for that? You held up all these people. You owe us something!"

Damian stayed perfectly composed and raised his voice. "I'll cover any losses I caused today. Once you know the amount, contact my assistant. I'll pay you three times that."

That took the fire right out of every driver there. Evan showed up soon after and took down each driver's number, and traffic at the intersection started moving again.

The cab driver turned around, rubbing his hands together. "Ma'am, could you give me two minutes? I want to go leave my number too..."

I pulled two $100 bills from my wallet and handed them over. "The fare's 30 bucks. Even three times that is under 100. Here's 200. Drive."

"You got it!" The driver hit the gas.

I leaned back in my seat and rubbed my forehead. All of a sudden, I kind of understood Lana.

A handsome, mature, well-off man comes into your store every day. He never crosses a line, never pushes. He just buys one piece of jewelry from you and waits patiently for you to say yes.

Take a girl whose parents work odd jobs, whose brother is buried in gambling debts, who worries about rent every month. How many girls like that could say no?

The driver was still marveling. "That girl's a lucky one. Her boyfriend's handsome, and he'll risk his neck to go back for her bracelet. But a guy that rich could just buy her another one, right? Why take the chance?"

I didn't say anything.

Right. So dangerous.

I thought back to 15 years ago. I was 14, a freshman in high school. On my way home one day, I found an injured stray cat and wanted to take it to the vet. As I was crossing the street, the cat wriggled out of my arms and darted into traffic.

Car after car nearly ran it over. In a panic, I squeezed my eyes shut and was about to run straight into the street.

A boy in a white basketball jersey with a sweatband around his forehead ran over from the other side. He scooped up the cat, dodged the cars, and pulled me back onto the sidewalk.

"Your cat?" The boy was dripping sweat. He put the cat back in my arms. "So the cat's life matters, but yours doesn't? Do you know how dangerous that was?"

He was an upperclassman, three years older than me and a head taller. Holding the cat, I bit my lip and nodded.

A few boys were trailing behind him. One of them, Tyler Grant, leaned in for a look and made a face. "That cat is so ugly. All dirty and skinny. If you like cats, just buy a pretty one. Running into the street for an ugly cat? How dumb is that?"

"Shut up, Tyler."

"I'm just being honest. It's ugly..."

"One more word, and tomorrow I'm throwing those sneakers of yours into the middle of the street."

"Hey! Those are limited-edition Jordans! I waited in line three days for those!"

The boy crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Far as I'm concerned, they're ugly and they stink. If you like shoes, buy another pair. They're not worth running into the street for."

That shut Tyler right up.

The boy turned back to me, his voice gentler. "Hey, it's okay now. Don't be scared."

"...Thanks."

He glanced down at the student ID hanging around my neck. "You go to Westbrook too? Sienna Hart?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm Damian Foster. If you ever need anything at school, come find me."

At the very back of the group stood one more boy, tall and lanky. He didn't say a word the whole time. He just watched me. That was the first time I ever saw Lucian.

After that, I never once went looking for Damian. It was Damian who kept coming to find me, again and again. He carried my books, waited for me after school, slipped notes into my locker. The whole school could see he liked me.

From that day on, he was by my side for 15 years.

As the cab pulled away, I looked back through the rear window. Damian was bent over Lana's wrist, fastening the bracelet again, exactly the way he had in the jewelry store three months ago.

15 years ago, he ran into traffic for me and told me my life was worth more than a cat's. 15 years later, he ran into traffic for another girl to rescue a bracelet.

My eyes stung. I tipped my head back so the tears wouldn't fall, took out my phone, and texted Lucian, "The power of attorney. The sooner the better."

Maybe it was better this way. This was how we started, and this was how we'd end. We'd loved each other. We'd had our good times. 15 years, beginning to end, and it had come full circle.