There it is.
The question every powerful man asks when fear stops working.
“I want the Oakridge house protected from every debt you created. I want full disclosure of every account you used. I want the divorce uncontested. I want you to stop contacting me directly. And I want you to tell the truth about my signature.”
His laugh is soft and ugly.
“You want me to destroy myself.”
“No,” I say. “You already did that. I want you to stop using me as a wall to hide behind.”
Nathan leans forward.
“You think Ethan is going to save you?”
The room turns cold.
I knew he would do this.
Men like Nathan cannot imagine a woman leaving unless another man is pulling her. Freedom must have a male owner, or it frightens them.
“Ethan is my friend,” I say.
Nathan smiles. “Of course.”
Vivian cuts in.
“One more insinuation and this meeting ends.”
Nathan ignores her.
“You were always too proud. You think you built something, but everything people respect about you came from being my wife.”
For one second, pain passes through me.
Not because he is right.
Because once, I feared he might be.
Then I remember my grandmother’s house, my clients, my accounts, my studio, and the woman who walked out of the gala without running.