Arabella sat on the edge of the guest bed.
She no longer shared a room with Sebastian. He hadn't said it outright, but the message had been clear when her side of the closet had been emptied, her perfume and lotion relocated, and a new lock installed on the master bedroom door.
She didn't ask.
She didn't fight.
She just moved.
It had been three days since she confronted Juliette.
Three days since she told Sebastian she wanted out.
And now, sitting in silence, Arabella held the freshly printed divorce papers in her trembling hands.
Her name stared back at her.
Arabella Elaine Hart-Crane.
She read the document line by line. No money. No property. No shares. Just her freedom.
She didn't care about the money.
She just wanted her soul back.
She slid the pen from the folder, her hand shaking, ready to sign.
But her eyes blurred.
She looked at the blank signature line, then the date, then back at the pen.
Do it, a voice in her head begged.
He's never going to love you again.
He probably never did.
But her hand… didn't move.
What if he shows up? What if he says he's sorry? What if he tells me everything was a mistake?
The pen hovered.
Then her phone vibrated.
Sebastian:Come upstairs. Now.
Her heart stopped.
She dropped the pen and bolted out of the room like something possessed.
The Master Bedroom – Minutes Later
She hadn't been in this room in weeks. It still smelled like his cologne. Dark, expensive, arrogant.
Sebastian stood by the window, holding something.
A velvet box.
She froze in the doorway. "What's going on?"
He didn't look at her.
Just opened the box.
Inside, a necklace. Platinum and sapphire. Elegant and cold.
He turned slowly. "Wear this to the gala."
Her lips parted. "You called me up here… for jewelry?"
He stepped closer, voice unreadable. "Investors want to see stability. Our marriage needs to look real."
"I'm signing the divorce papers," she said. "Today."
His jaw ticked. "Don't."
"Why? So I can keep playing dress-up while you build a future with someone else?"
He held out the box again.
Her voice broke. "Are you even going to fight for me?"
Silence.
And then, "No."
The honesty hit harder than anything else.
Arabella swallowed.
This was her cue. This was her chance. Just turn around, go downstairs, and sign.
But her body wouldn't move.
She stared at the necklace.
The one he used to buy her affection. Again.
"Juliette's lying about the baby," she said.
His eyes flickered just for a second.
She saw it.
"You know it, don't you?" she whispered. "You just don't care."
"I care," he said, too quietly. "About my company. My image. Not... not this."
Not us.
The Next Morning
Arabella had packed again.
She placed the signed divorce papers on the marble counter.
She texted Chloe.
Arabella:It's done. I'm leaving now.
She turned to grab her suitcase.
That's when the doorbell rang.
Chloe? The driver?
She opened the door and froze.
It wasn't Chloe.
It was Juliette.
Wearing white.
And smiling.
"Hello, wife," Juliette said sweetly, pushing past her into the apartment like she belonged there. "I thought I'd come early for the fitting."
Arabella slammed the door shut behind her. "What are you talking about?"
Juliette spun slowly, admiring the space. "Sebastian proposed last night. I said yes, of course."
Arabella's body went still.
"He's going to announce it after the Stratton gala. Wanted to wait till you were out of the picture."
She didn't say anything.
Didn't blink.
Juliette picked up the divorce envelope. "Oh, good, you signed. I was afraid you'd be dramatic."
Arabella yanked it from her hand.
Juliette laughed. "Relax, I already read it. You're not getting a dime."
Arabella stepped closer. "You don't love him."
Juliette smirked. "Love? Honey, I don't even like him."
"Then why...?"
"Because he's easy. Predictable. Rich."
Arabella's breath caught. "You're still seeing someone else, aren't you?"
Juliette winked. "Maybe. But that's not your business anymore."
Arabella's voice trembled. "He's going to regret you."
"He already does. But not enough to stop me."
Juliette leaned in. "And here's the best part...when he finally realizes what he lost… it'll be too late. But not for you. You'll still be watching. Still hoping."
Arabella slapped her.
The sound echoed.
Juliette smiled wider.
"Finally," she said, rubbing her cheek. "A little fight."
Then, without another word, she walked out.
That Night
Arabella sat at the dining table, the divorce papers beside her.
Pen in hand.
Signature line waiting.
Just sign it.
But instead, she stared at the door.
Waiting for Sebastian.
Waiting for him to come home.
Waiting for him to stop her.
Waiting.