4

The day before I left, I came home after finishing the residency paperwork and found a public apology waiting on the dining table.

It claimed that I had invited Sienna to take part in an interactive segment of the charity concert.

Her behavior had been a planned performance. The secretly recorded footage had been taken out of context and should not be held against her.

At the bottom were two signature lines: one for me and one for the orchestra manager to sign on behalf of the organization.

Ethan was on the sofa with Sienna snuggled up beside him.

"Sign it."

He pushed a pen toward me, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Tomorrow, have the orchestra manager sign off on it to confirm that what happened that night was part of the show."

I glanced at the signature line. "I won't lie for her."

Sienna's eyes were red as she explained. "I'm up for brand manager next month. If my company finds out I got drunk and made a scene at a concert hall, they'll think I'm unreliable."

I turned to Ethan. "So her career counts, and mine doesn't?"

Ethan frowned. "The orchestra's already suspended you. Going after Sienna won't do you any good. Besides, it was only one chance to perform. You didn't really lose anything."

I'd played the violin for 20 years and worked my way up from the back row to assistant concertmaster.

With one careless sentence, he erased all my hard work.

"I won't sign it."

I raised my head. My voice had never been steadier.

Ethan picked up his phone. "Then I'll have to pull the venue sponsorship for your mother's memorial concert."

The blood drained from my face.

The memorial concert was tonight.

The programs had been printed, and the audience was already there.

"Ethan, my mother was good to you when she was alive. Don't you remember any of that?"

He hesitated, then pushed the pen toward me anyway. "Of course I remember. So as long as you sign, the concert goes on as planned."

My phone kept lighting up.

The venue had suddenly cut the power, and the audience was being kept out in the lobby.

The venue manager said the last sponsorship payment hadn't come through, so they couldn't open the doors.

I turned to the last page of the statement and found one more line. It read, "I admit that out of jealousy, I verbally attacked Sienna on multiple occasions, and I offer this public apology of my own free will."

I took a deep breath and tore the statement in half.

Sienna jumped to her feet. "You don't even care about your mom's memorial concert anymore?"

"My mother didn't teach me the violin so I could beg on my knees for a place onstage."

The venue sent a notice. "Sponsorship canceled. The hall will be closed tonight."

The group chat erupted.

Some people were looking for a new venue. Others were trying to calm the audience.

No one reached out to me. They all thought I'd backed out at the last minute.

"You can always do the concert next year," Sienna said.

I looked up and stared her down. "Is that what you were thinking when you destroyed my mother's violin?"

Ethan glared at me. "Stop harping on the violin. Sienna already apologized. Are you only going to be happy once you've ruined her?"

"What about my audition? And the concert?"

"It's one less chance, that's all." He pushed the pen at me again. "Sign it. Don't ruin everyone else's future over a tantrum."

I looked at him for a moment, and suddenly I laughed.

Then I took the divorce papers I'd already signed out of my suitcase and laid them on top of the statement.

"Fine. Let's sign."

I took off my wedding ring. "But these are the papers that need your signature."

He picked up the papers, then saw the suitcase, and for the first time, panic flashed across his face. "Where are you going?"

"Helsinki."

"I don't agree to this."

"I'm not asking."

He blocked the door, his voice tight. "We can redo the concert. We can buy another violin.

"Sienna was wrong, and I'll make her apologize. There's no need to threaten divorce just because you're upset."

I looked at the man I'd loved for so many years.

My eyes still stung, but I had no desire to turn back.

"Ethan, I'm not doing this out of spite."

I pulled up the handle of my suitcase and looked him in the eye. "I used to think that if I just put up with it one more time, you'd eventually turn around and look at me.

"But every time you turned around, it was her you were looking at."

The color slowly drained from his face. "Nora, what are you saying?"

I pushed his hand away. "I mean you two can have another eight years together, and then another. As for this marriage, I don't want it anymore."

Behind him, Sienna called softly, "Ethan."

And once again, without thinking, he turned to look.

This time, I didn't cry, and I didn't stay.

I opened the door, wheeled my suitcase out into the rain, and never looked back.