Chapter 5 - THE QUIET MORNING AFTER
Three months later.
The morning sun streamed through the expansive glass windows of my kitchen, casting warm amber light across the marble counters. The house was quiet, peaceful, and entirely mine.
No nagging mother-in-law demanding special coffee.
No lying husband tracking dirt across the hardwood floors while plotting his next betrayal.
Just me, a cup of freshly brewed artisan roast, and the morning paper.
The divorce had been finalized the previous week. It was swift, clinical, and devastatingly thorough. Everett walked away with precisely nothing—no shares in the company, no claim to the estate, and no access to the trust that had funded his lifestyle for the better part of a decade. He was currently living in a cramped studio apartment on the south side of the city, working a mid-level consultancy job at a firm that only hired him out of pity after his reputation in corporate Atlanta was thoroughly incinerated.
Chloe had dumped him within forty-eight hours of their return from London once she realized the black cards weren't coming back. Apparently, she didn't find charm very appealing when it came bundled with bankruptcy and a pending federal fraud investigation.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
It was a text message from an unknown number.
Please, Stella, the message read. Just talk to me. Can we meet? I have nothing left.
I stared at the screen for three seconds.
Then, with a calm, deliberate movement, I tapped my finger against the screen and blocked the number.
I set the phone down, took a slow sip of my coffee, and looked out across the manicured lawn toward the tree line where the spring breeze was finally starting to bring the garden back to life.
He thought he was leaving me behind to suffer in a prison of his own making while he lived out a fantasy overseas. Instead, he had handed me the matches, walked away, and let me burn down the dead weight of my past.
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For the first time in my life, I wasn't waiting for anyone.
I was entirely free.
