Watching Noah listen to me so naturally, watching me soften for him in a way I hadn’t softened for Ethan in years, seemed to rattle him more than anything legal ever could.
He stepped closer.
“I was wrong,” he said. “Lily, forgive me. Give me one more chance. I swear I’ll never do it again. From now on there will only be you.”
I almost laughed.
He had once made similar promises while chasing me. I had believed them then too.
“And why,” I asked quietly, “would I trade a life of freedom for a return to the hell I escaped?”
His face drained of color.
“You think I’d give a liar and a cheat a second chance? I’m not a saint. And I’m definitely not a recycling center for trash. You came to the wrong place.”
He looked stricken. Actually stricken. But too late pity is still too late.
Then, of all people, Sophie appeared.
She had followed him there while still sick, breathless and pale. The second she saw us, she rushed over and grabbed his arm.
I glanced once at their joined hands.
Ethan reacted as though burned. He flung her off so hard she stumbled and fell to the ground.
She stared at him in disbelief, then recovered fast enough to start her act all over again.
“Ethan, did Mrs. Frost say something to you? You promised you wouldn’t believe one-sided stories—”
“Shut up,” he said.
The look he gave her was so icy it wiped the tears right off her face.
I leaned against the doorway and watched with detached amusement. “We’re already divorced. Let her finish. I’m kind of curious what kind of man the person I loved for five years actually was.”
Sophie’s head snapped toward me. “You’re divorced?”
I smiled. “Very much so. And we will never remarry. Congratulations, Sophie. You finally got what you wanted.”
Every word landed like a blade in Ethan’s chest.
He stared at me with something close to despair. Not because I sounded cruel, I think. Because I sounded relieved.
That hurt him more.
Unable to bear it, he turned and left in the darkening evening like a man fleeing a burning building.
Sophie sat there for one stunned second, then slowly stood.
The moment Ethan’s car disappeared, triumph returned to her face.
“I told you,” she said smugly. “You never had a chance against me.”
I walked down the steps toward her.
Slowly.
Remembering the slap. The bridge. My grandmother’s watch ruined by river water. Every ugly little thing she had done while hiding behind Ethan’s indulgence.
I stopped in front of her, smiled, and slapped her so hard her head snapped sideways.
She staggered back, shocked.
“That one,” I said, “was for what you owed me.”
She shrieked threats and tried to invoke Ethan’s name.
I slapped her again, this time on the other cheek, until both sides matched in bright red symmetry.
“That one was for my grandmother’s watch,” I said.
“We’re even now. If you want revenge, feel free to bring Ethan with you. I’d be happy to hit him too.”
Then I turned.
At the window above, Noah was watching with dark displeasure, clearly annoyed that I had enjoyed myself without him.
The second I stepped inside, he grabbed my hand and frowned at my palm.
“If you wanted to hit someone, why didn’t you call me? Does your hand hurt?”
My heart softened instantly.
“No.”
“Liar.”
He dragged me to the kitchen, boiled eggs, wrapped them in a towel, and rolled them over my palm with absurd seriousness while muttering about how I should delegate violence next time.
“Did you at least enjoy the show?” I asked.
His mouth was a stubborn line.
I changed the subject.
“We’re still going to Europe first, right?”
He looked up.
That finally distracted him.
The old pocket watch could maybe still be repaired, he told me. And if there was even a one-percent chance, he wanted to try.
Then, very gently, he slid my ring back onto my finger after I had removed it to wash up.
“Come with me,” he murmured. “We’ll treat it like a trip.”