Chapter Four
Nora's POV
"Doesn't Vivian need you on Valentine's Day?" I asked.
For a second, Graham's face went stiff. "I've been with her this whole time. It's your turn."
Even he could tell how weak that sounded. His eyes dropped to the floor.
I didn't call him out on it. I just nodded and played along to the end.
Valentine's Day also happened to be the day the divorce went through.
Honestly, that felt like a fitting way to wrap things up.
The day before the divorce was final, Graham hadn't been home in two days.
I didn't have to guess. He was with Vivian, most likely still trying to smooth things over with her after that night.
But every night, my phone would light up a few times.
Sometimes it was a game score. Sometimes it was a stray dog he'd snapped a picture of on the side of the road. Sometimes it was just a funny video he'd forwarded, with "look at this" underneath.
We were just like any ordinary long-distance couple, shooting the breeze over text.
But in five years of marriage, we'd never once talked like that.
I didn't want to think too hard about why he'd suddenly started.
I'd spent the past few days packing.
Whatever I could take with me, I boxed up and shipped to Halston in a few batches. And the things I couldn't take, I made sure to deal with too.
I took the hundred necklaces out of the jewelry case one by one, put them in dust bags, and moved them into a safe deposit box at the bank. The moment I put the key away, the case was empty, and a big part of me felt empty too.
I wasn't exactly quiet about it, and word finally got back to Graham.
That night, he called. "Owen says you're packing?"
"Yeah." I kept it casual. "Aren't we going to the beach house? I really like it out there."
The line went quiet for a few seconds.
"How about I put on a drone show for you out there?"
I almost laughed. "Better not. With the airspace restrictions, they'd slap you with a huge fine."
He sounded relieved. "Then just wait for me there tomorrow night."
"Okay."
The second I said it, a notification popped up at the top of my screen: Your flight is confirmed.
Graham paused, like he could sense something was off, and reminded me one more time. "Nora, you have to wait for me."
"I'll wait."
The next day, I waited at the beach house from late afternoon until it got dark.
He never came.
Owen called, sounding really sorry, and said Mr. Thorne had gotten held up in a last-minute meeting and would be there later.
But right after I hung up, I saw Vivian's new post.
In the picture, she was standing in the basket of a hot air balloon with Graham hugging her from behind, the whole sky lit up by the sunset.
I checked the time.
Two hours until the divorce was final. Four hours until my flight took off.
Looked like I wouldn't get the chance to tell him myself.
I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window. In the distance, dozens of hot air balloons were drifting slowly over the river. I couldn't tell which one they were in.
I thought about what he'd said on the phone last night, that I had to wait for him, and I couldn't help laughing.
If he knew this was the last time I'd ever wait for him, would he turn around and rush back right now?
I turned and went back into the living room.
There was just one small suitcase standing in the corner. Not much in this house had ever been mine to begin with. The whole time, I'd felt more like a guest passing through.
Now that I was leaving, at least it was a clean break.
With two hours to go, my lawyer texted me.
"Ms. Ellison, it's a little early, but congratulations on being a free woman. Someone's bringing the divorce decree over to you now."
An hour later, the doorbell rang.
I signed for the thin stack of papers, flipped to the last page, and looked at the official stamp.
Five years of marriage, and that was it. Over.
I grabbed my suitcase and shut the door behind me.
On the way to the airport, traffic on the highway was a little backed up.
It was stop-and-go the whole way. I was leaning against the window, zoning out, when a familiar car in the opposite lane caught my eye.
It was Graham.
He was driving way too fast, heading toward the beach house.
I looked down.
Passing each other on the highway like this was probably the last time our paths would ever cross.
But the next second, he slammed on the brakes.
Behind the window, Graham turned his head and looked straight at me.
