The pen feels heavier than it should. I sign my name at the bottom of the divorce papers—Nora Ashford, soon to be just Nora again—and slide the folder across Garrett's mahogany desk. He's one of Dominic's colleagues, the one who agreed to handle this quietly. No drama. No questions. "That's everything," Garrett says, closing the file. His voice is kind, professional. He doesn't know the half of it. Through his office window, I can see the building across the street. The glass tower where Dominic works. Where he's been working for the past four years while I've been waiting. Four years ago today, we stood in a courthouse with no one but a bored officiant and signed our names. No flowers. No family. Just a legal arrangement that made sense at the time—or so I told myself. I watch the front entrance of his building, and there he is. Dominic steps out into the afternoon sunlight, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his hand reaching back to guide someone through the door behind him. Claire. His arm settles around her shoulders, protective and easy. Natural. She leans into him the way I used to, back when I believed the secret between us was something worth keeping. They walk toward the parking garage, and she's laughing at something he said. He's smiling down at her with that expression I know too well—the one that used to make me feel like I was the only person in the world who mattered. "Nora?" Garrett's voice pulls me back. "Are you all right?" I turn away from the window. "I'm fine." "The papers will be filed by end of week. Six months and it's final." Six months until the marriage that never really existed is officially over. I stand, collecting my purse. "Thank you for handling this." "Of course." He hesitates. "Dominic doesn't know you're using me, does he?" "No." "Good," Garrett says quietly. "Better that way." I leave his office and take the elevator down, my hands steady even though nothing else is. When I reach the lobby, I glance across the street one more time. Dominic's car is pulling out of the garage. Claire is in the passenger seat. And I realize I'm standing here on our anniversary, watching my husband drive away with the woman he's choosing instead.