Chapter 2

Nathan picked up the phone, and the moment he did, Cordelia knew the conversation was done.

Sure enough, when he hung up, he didn’t even look at her. He turned and walked straight out.

Cordelia dropped her gaze to the divorce papers in her hand and let out a small, bitter laugh.

What had she been fighting for, really? What was the point?

She set the agreement back on the table and pulled out a suitcase.

Three years. She’d filled this house piece by piece. Yet as she packed, she realized how little of it was actually hers.

The thought stung.

Cordelia dragged the suitcase downstairs. At the door, she turned and looked back at the place she’d lived in for seven years.

Seven years. This villa had kept her shut in for seven full years.

Seven years of youth, traded for a husband’s indifference and a daughter’s dislike. Nothing else.

She didn’t hesitate again. Cordelia walked out without looking back.

She returned to the small place she’d lived in before and spent the whole day unpacking, putting everything where it belonged. By the time she finally sat down, the sky outside had gone dark.

Cordelia sank into the couch and stared at the ceiling, her mind blank.

At this hour, he’d usually be in the kitchen, cooking for Yara and himself. Now the apartment was so quiet it felt wrong, like her body hadn’t caught up with her life.

She pulled out her phone and scrolled without thinking, then tapped an app she hadn’t opened in a long time.

It was an account she’d made in college. Her profile picture was a still from a campus theater production she’d starred in.

Cordelia opened her page.

Her last post was from four years ago.

[Thanks for all the love, but for personal reasons I’ll be stepping away for a while. Hope we meet again someday.]

A few comments still sat beneath it.

“Why did Cordelia stop acting? I watched that performance in ‘Raging Storm’ three times!”

“Such a shame. Cordelia’s acting was insanely good.”

“Heard an agency was going to sign Cordelia. How did that go nowhere?”

Cordelia’s focus softened as the words pulled her back to the months after her debut.

She’d loved acting. She’d been good at it, too. In drama school, she’d ranked first in both performance and theory.

After a few small parts, a talent agency had noticed her. Then the contract landed in front of her, and she found out she was pregnant.

Around that time, Nathan had started treating her better. She’d convinced herself the baby might change everything, that they’d finally become a real couple.

So she walked away from the contract and chose, willingly, to become a stay-at-home wife.

Year after year.

She’d nearly forgotten she’d once been someone people watched, someone they waited for.

Cordelia’s smile twisted. She was about to close the app when her phone buzzed.

William Russell.

A classmate from college, a directing major. Back then, he’d made short films that won awards. After graduation, his career took off—several well-reviewed films, a solid name in the industry.

They just hadn’t talked in years.

Cordelia answered.

“Cordelia?” His voice was warm and clear. “It’s me. Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No.” She paused. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah.” William let out a quiet laugh. “I’ll keep it quick. I’m putting together a new show. The cast is all A-listers, but we hit a snag with the female lead. The first person I thought of was you. Are you interested in auditioning?”

Cordelia went still. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” His tone turned steady. “Cordelia, you’re the most naturally gifted actor I’ve ever seen.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

“But I haven’t acted in years,” she said, voice low.

“So what?” William laughed. “Some things get written into your bones. They don’t just disappear. I only need one answer—do you still want to come back?”

Do you still want to come back?

Cordelia swallowed. “Can I even come back?”

“If you want to, you can. Anytime.”

Her eyes stung. She stared ahead for a long moment, then steadied.

“Okay,” she said. “I’ll try.”

“Then it’s settled.” She could hear his smile. “I’ll email you the script. Read it first. We start in a week.”

After they hung up, the file came through. Cordelia opened it, and within a few pages, the story had her.

Later that evening, her best friend sent a location pin and asked her to come out for dinner.

By coincidence, it was the French restaurant Cordelia had always wanted to try with Nathan. Every time she asked, he’d been “too busy.” Eventually, she stopped asking.

This time, she didn’t hesitate. She replied: [Okay].

At eight, Cordelia arrived.

She wore light makeup, her hair loosely pinned up. Effortless. Clean. Somehow sharper than she’d looked in years, like her face had finally come back into focus.

She stepped inside—and stopped.

By the window, at the best table in the place, sat a big, cheerful group. Candles and fresh flowers filled the center.

Nathan sat at the head. Yara, in a pretty party dress, sat beside him, her arms wrapped tight around Bianca.

“Happy birthday!” Yara kissed Bianca’s cheek. “Yara loves you the most!”

Bianca smiled and ruffled her hair. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Ms. Johnson, when you make your birthday wish, can you add one more?” Yara’s eyes shone. “Wish we can hurry up and be a family of three—Dad, me, and you. I want you to be my mom forever!”

Bianca shot Nathan a shy look. “Yara, don’t say things like that.”

Nathan sat back, the corners of his mouth faintly lifted, neither confirming nor denying it.

Bianca’s friends started teasing.

“This little family of three is adorable.”

“Bianca really hit the jackpot. Mr. Foster spoils her.”

Yeah. That was what a home was supposed to look like.

Cordelia stood there, lashes trembling. She watched until her eyes burned, then turned to leave.

“Cordelia?” Bianca spotted her, surprised. “What a coincidence. You’re eating here too?”

Every head turned.

When Nathan saw Cordelia, his brows drew together, a small frown—but clear as day.

One of Bianca’s friends let out a low, mocking laugh. She’d heard enough about Nathan and Cordelia to feel bold.

“Guess the standards here have dropped,” she said loudly. “Stay-at-home housewives can afford places like this now?”

“Oh, she’s a stay-at-home wife?” Another friend chimed in, sweet and sharp. “Living off a man and still has the nerve to show her face? Not like our Bianca. She got a call from Director Russell today—inviting her to play the female lead.”

“Director Russell’s shows are always massive hits. Bianca’s going to be a star.”

Bianca ducked her head, acting embarrassed. “Come on. Don’t say that. I don’t even know if I can do it.” Her voice softened. “I just… don’t have that many projects left, so I want to leave at least one role that really represents me.”

Director Russell. William?

Cordelia’s brows lifted. Had he offered Bianca the lead? Then what was Cordelia supposed to be?

Bianca waved her over, all warmth. “Cordelia, since you’re here, why don’t you join us? It’s my birthday. The more the merrier.”

Cordelia didn’t bother with politeness. She walked over.

The friend who’d been the cruelest lounged back in her chair, watching Cordelia with open disdain, a smirk tugging at her mouth.

Cordelia stopped in front of her.

“What did you just say?” she asked, calm.

The woman blinked, caught off guard, then lifted her chin.

“I said you’re just a housewife. How could you ever compare to Bianca?” Her mouth curled. “What, can’t handle the—”

She didn’t finish.

A glass of red wine splashed her full in the face.