Chapter 1
Sophia ran a manicured finger along the rim of her tea cup, brows knitting tight.
“What’s your angle, Emily?”
Emily’s face was unreadable. “No angle. I’m just tired.”
“Do you have any idea how many women would kill to be in your shoes?”
“Oh, I do,” Emily said, meeting her gaze. “That’s why I’m handing them over.”
That did it. A flicker of panic cracked through Sophia’s cool exterior. She stared at the papers for a long beat… then picked them up.
“Well then. Since you’re being so generous, I won’t say no.”
She glanced up, voice low and smug.
“But just so we’re clear–I don’t give back what’s mine.”
Emily gave a faint smile. “Good. I won’t be asking.”
She’d already lived a lifetime full of loneliness and regret.
Sophia stood and strolled to another table, took out her phone, and tapped a few times with that dainty, practiced elegance of hers.
When the call connected, her voice switched from smug to syrupy sweet.
“Ethan? I’m at Willow Grove Café. Can you come pick me up?”
Emily sat in the corner, lips curled into a bitter smile.
She remembered the days she’d call him–ten times out of ten, his assistant picked up.
But now?
Not twenty minutes later, the man who was always “in a meeting” walked through the door like the world had stopped turning just for her.
Through the glass, Emily saw him. Ethan Caldwell. Six–foot–two in a custom black suit that fit like sin, sharp jaw, colder eyes. A man born to command.
Their six–year–old son Lucas and four–year–old daughter Lily ran straight into Sophia’s arms like she was their world.
“Auntie Sophia!” Lily squealed, nuzzling against her chest like a baby kitten.
Ethan set a box on the table and nudged it toward Sophia with a single elegant gesture.
“Vanilla bean. Had the chef dut the sugar–just how you like it.”
Her eyes lit up. “You always remember the little things.”
Emily sat there, fists clenched in her lap.
Six years of marriage. Ethan never once asked what cake she liked.
The one time she was hospitalized and craving strawberry shortcake, he had his assistant grab something “close enough.” It was peach. She was allergic.
“What do you feel like for dinner?” Ethan’s voice was low, almost intimate. “French? Italian?”
Sophia smiled and pulled something from her purse.
“Before that, there’s something I need you to take a look at.”
She flipped to the last page of the divorce papers.
“There’s a villa I’ve had my eye on, but I’m a little short on liquid funds. Could you…?”
Ethan took the pen and signed without so much as glancing at it.
“You and me–no need to keep score.”
Lucas looked up at Sophia, eyes wide.
“You’re getting a new house, Auntie Sophia? Dad, can we get one next door? Me and Lily wanna live with her. We’re tired of being at Mom’s all the time.”
Ethan hesitated for half a second, then caved when he saw the kids‘ hopeful faces.
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“Sure. We’ll look into it.”
“No need for all that,” Sophia said sweetly. “I’ll just save a few rooms for you and the kids. You’re always welcome.”
The children whooped with joy.
Lily wrapped her arms around Sophia’s neck and kissed her cheek.
“You’re the best, Auntie Sophia! Way better than Mommy!”
Emily felt something twist violently in her chest.
She glanced at Ethan.
He was smiling. Smiling in a way she had never seen him smile at her.
That was enough. She stood up, grabbed her bag, and walked out the door without looking back.
As soon as the cold air hit her face, memories from her previous life came flooding in.
She’d married Ethan in a business deal. They’d had two kids. She lived to sixty–two–but she was never happy.
Because from beginning to end, Ethan only loved one woman: Sophia Bennett.
Back then, after Sophia left the country, Ethan drank himself sick for a few days. But pride kept him from chasing after her. When the families arranged a merger, he said yes without hesitation.
To Emily, Ethan had been her teenage dream. The untouchable prince of Sterling Heights. Every girl in high society wanted him.
So when her family announced the engagement, she’d felt like she’d won the lottery.
But after the wedding, she poured everything into their marriage… and got nothing back.
And then Sophia returned.
Ethan didn’t file for divorce. He didn’t need to. He never looked at Emily again.
Even worse, the kids–her kids–started drifting toward Sophia too.
Years later, Emily was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Ethan claimed it was “for her peace of mind” when he sent her away to the Caldwell estate, alone.
On her birthday, she called her husband and children–only to find out they were in the Maldives with Sophia.
She tried making herself a bowl of birthday noodles–a tradition her mom used to keep, long before everything fell apart.
But she forgot to turn off the stove.
As the flames closed in around her, the only thing she could see were Ethan’s cold, indifferent eyes—the same eyes he had when he slid the wedding ring onto her finger.
In that final, burning moment, she wished for just one thing: a second chance.
A second chance at life–one where she didn’t waste her heart, her youth, and her soul on a man who never loved her back.
Back at the villa, it was already dark.
But Emily didn’t rest. She started packing.
Ethan’s suits. The kids‘ toys. Framed family photos. Into boxes they went, one by one.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ethan’s voice rang out behind her.
She turned. He stood in the doorway, both kids in tow, scowling.
“Why is Mommy throwing away our stuff?” Lily ran to the boxes, saw her teddy bear inside, and burst into angry tears. “That’s my bear!”
Lucas glared. “We just hung out with Auntie Sophia. Why are you being so dramatic?”
Ethan crossed his arms. His tone was cold as ever.
The kids like Sophia. You’re really throwing a fit over that?”
“I’m not angry,” Emily said quietly.
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“Liar!” Lily screamed. “You’re just jealous of Auntie Sophia! You’re the worst mom ever!”
“I’m gonna live with Auntie Sophia forever!” Lucas snapped, grabbing his sister’s hand. “We’ll never come back here!”
Ethan said nothing. He didn’t correct them. Didn’t even look at her.
He adjusted his sleeve like none of it concerned him.
“That’s enough. I’ve got a board meeting. Pack whatever you want. Just don’t make a mess.”
As the door clicked shut, Emily’s tears finally fell.
Her chest felt like it had been ripped apart. Every breath hurt like hell.
She wiped her eyes, looked at the mess around her…
And laughed.
It’s okay.
She won’t bother him again.
Not ever.
