Emma's POV
I was folding Lily's favorite pajamas—the ones with the tiny stars—when I heard Julian's car screech into the driveway.
My hands didn't shake. They should have, but they didn't. Five years of loving a man who couldn't love me back had used up all my trembling. Now I just felt... empty. Clean. Like I'd finally stopped carrying something too heavy for too long.
The front door slammed so hard the windows rattled.
"EMMA!"
I kept folding. Stars aligned perfectly with stars. Lily would need these at my Brooklyn apartment. Our new home. Our fresh start.
Julian burst into our bedroom like a storm. His perfect suit was wrinkled. His hair stuck up like he'd been running his hands through it. He looked terrible.
Good.
"What is this?" He held up the divorce papers, his hand actually shaking. "You can't just—we need to talk about this!"
"There's nothing to talk about." I placed the pajamas in my suitcase. Moved to her stuffed animals. Mr. Whiskers would definitely come. The unicorn too.
"Nothing to talk about? Emma, this is our marriage!"
I finally looked at him. Really looked at him. "No, Julian. This is YOUR marriage. I've just been living in it."
His face went pale. "That's not fair—"
"Fair?" The word came out sharp as glass. I could feel something cracking inside me, something I'd kept locked up tight for so long. "You want to talk about fair? Okay. Let's talk."
I stopped packing. Turned to face him completely.
"You forgot our anniversary three years in a row. THREE. I bought myself flowers and pretended they were from you so the doorman wouldn't pity me."
Julian opened his mouth. I didn't let him speak.
"You missed Lily's birth because you were closing a deal. I labored for fourteen hours alone. Your mother sat with me. YOUR MOTHER. Not you."
"Emma, I can explain—"
"I found Sophie's photo in your desk drawer last year." My voice stayed steady even though my heart was breaking all over again. "You kept it there. For our entire marriage. You looked at her picture while I was downstairs making your dinner."
He flinched like I'd hit him.
"I designed the lobby of Pierce Tower. Did you know that? I spent six months creating something beautiful for your building. You complimented 'the designer' at the opening party. You shook my hand and said 'whoever did this has real talent.' I was standing right there, Julian. YOUR WIFE. And you didn't even know it was me."
"You never told me you were working—"
"I TRIED!" The words exploded out of me. "I tried for FIVE YEARS! I invited you to gallery showings. I left my sketches on the kitchen table. I talked about my projects at dinner and you nodded while checking your phone. You never asked a single question about my life because you never cared enough to wonder."
Tears burned my eyes but I wouldn't let them fall. Not anymore. Not for him.
"I loved you." My voice dropped to a whisper. "I loved you so much it physically hurt. Every time you came home late, every time you looked through me instead of at me, every time you lit up for Sophie in ways you never did for me—it hurt. And I stayed anyway because I thought maybe, someday, you'd see me."
Julian's face crumbled. "Emma, please—"
"But you never did. And you never will." I picked up my suitcase. "Sign the papers, Julian. Let's both stop pretending this was ever real."
"We have a daughter!"
"Yes. And she asked me yesterday why you smile at Aunt Sophie but never at Mommy." I watched him freeze. "She's four years old and she already knows her father doesn't love her mother. What do you think that's teaching her about what she should accept from people who claim to love her?"
The color drained from his face completely.
"I'm taking Lily to my apartment in Brooklyn. You remember I have an apartment? The design studio I've been running for three years while you thought I was getting my nails done?"
"What apartment? What studio?" He looked genuinely confused.
Something inside me finally broke clean through. "Exactly. You don't know anything about me. After five years of marriage, you don't know the first real thing about your wife."
I walked past him. He grabbed my arm—not hard, just desperate.
"Emma, wait. Please. I can change. I can be better—"
"You can't change the past five years." I pulled away gently. "And I can't keep dying a little more each day waiting for you to love me. Goodbye, Julian."
I walked down the stairs. Through the living room where we'd never really lived. Past the kitchen where I'd cooked a thousand meals he barely tasted. Out the front door of the penthouse that never felt like home.
I didn't look back.
Behind me, I heard Julian make a sound—broken, animal, raw. Part of me wanted to turn around. The part that had loved him for so long, the part that still remembered how my heart jumped the first time I saw him.
But I kept walking.
I was halfway to my car when my phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
Mrs. Pierce, this is Casey Martin from your husband's office. I need to speak with you urgently about Mr. Pierce and Sophie Hart. There are things you don't know. Things I should have told you years ago. Please call me. It's about your daughter's safety.
My blood turned to ice.
I looked back at the penthouse. Julian stood in the doorway, watching me leave, looking more broken than I'd ever seen him.
My phone buzzed again.
Sophie isn't who you think she is. And she's been planning something terrible.
My finger hovered over the call button.
What had I just walked away from? And what was I about to discover?