One hundred twenty million dollars.
“You do not belong in his world,” Arthur said, each word precisely enunciated. “Take this, sign the papers, and disappear. This is enough to keep you and your pathetic family in luxury for the rest of your lives.”
The insult stung like a needle pressed directly into my heart.
My pathetic family.
My father, a high school teacher who worked two jobs to put me through college.
My mother, a nurse who spent thirty years caring for people who could not afford better healthcare.
Pathetic.
My body trembled, but I kept my face neutral. I looked at Julian, searching for a spark of something.
Regret? Guilt? A single memory of the nights we spent together, the promises we whispered in the dark?
Nothing.
He did not even blink. His thumb continued scrolling, scrolling, scrolling through whatever was more important than this moment.
My heart died right there in that study.
Three years of patience and devotion, three years of enduring silent meals and cold shoulders, three years of hoping he would remember why he married me, were reduced to a lapse in judgment worth one hundred twenty million dollars.
I felt a bitter taste rise in my throat and swallowed it down.
I looked at Arthur and, to his visible shock, I did not scream. I did not beg. I did not throw the check back in his face.
I smiled.
A small, calm smile that seemed to unsettle him more than tears ever could.
I placed my hand on my stomach, where four tiny lives were just beginning to take root.
The surprise I had been waiting to tell Julian for three days, ever since the doctor confirmed it with wide eyes and repeated tests.
Quadruplets. Four babies. A medical miracle.
Now, it was a secret I would take with me.
“Fine,” I said.
One word. Calm as a graveyard, cold as winter.
I picked up the pen he had laid out, flipped to the last page of the divorce decree that had clearly been prepared days ago, and signed my name.
Nora Vance.
Not Sterling. Vance.
I never really belonged to them anyway.
I picked up the check, folded it carefully, and slipped it into my pocket.
Then I walked out of that study for the last time.
The air in the study turned to stone as I pocketed that check.
Arthur looked genuinely stunned. He had clearly practiced his angry father-in-law speech for an hour, prepared counterarguments for my tears and pleas.
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