Chapter 2
Nathan drummed his fingers against the steering wheel of his Maybach, parked outside the Manhattan Family Court. His phone lit up with an incoming call.
“Nathan, sweetheart!” His grandmother’s voice was bright but pointed. “You and Amelia have been married a whole year. When am I getting some
great–grandbabies?”
Nathan’s face softened despite himself. “Grandma, we’re still figuring things out. No need to rush.” He shifted in his seat. “How’s Grandpa doing? Is he-”
“Oh, don’t you try to change the subject on me,” she interrupted with a laugh. “Your grandfather’s doing much better, thank the Lord, but honey, we’re not spring chickens anymore. We want to see those babies before we’re too old to spoil them rotten.“[]
“Grandma…”
Her tone turned serious. “And Nathan? I’ve been hearing things around town. Gossip. You better be treating that sweet girl right, you hear me?“]
Nathan went silent for a beat too long.
“Nathan James Harrison, are you listening to me?“[]
He rubbed his temples. “Yeah, Grandma. I hear you loud and clear.“]]
After another few minutes of her gentle but persistent questioning, Nathan finally managed to end the call. He stared at the courthouse entrance, his jaw working.
He pulled up his messages, thumb hovering over Vivian’s contact–the heart emoji next to her name, the photo of her laughing in golden sunlight. He scrolled past it and tapped Amelia’s name instead. Their last exchange was just logistics: time, place, what to bring.
She was ten minutes late. Not like her at all.[]
Where are you?]]
A tap on his window made him look up. Amelia stood there looking washed out, dark circles under her eyes. She slid into the passenger seat without a
word.
She was wearing the same clothes from yesterday–a cream blazer and black pants she’d bought for him last month. “You look good in earth tones,” she’d said, holding the jacket up to his chest.
For seven years, she’d dressed him, fed him, organized his entire life down to his dentist appointments.[]
“You’re late,” he said.
“By ten minutes.” Her voice was flat. No apology, no excuse. The old Amelia would’ve shown up an hour early with coffee and an explanation for every minute of delay.
Nathan’s drumming stopped, He studied her profile–pale, distant, like she wasn’t really there
“My grandmother just called.” He looked straight ahead. “We can’t tell them about any of this. The divorce, I mean. It would kill them.”
Amelia didn’t nod or agree like she usually did. Instead: “What did she say?“]
“Wants grandkids. The usual.” Nathan’s voice tightened with irritation. “She’s been hearing rumors about us.“[]
The silence stretched between them. After what felt like forever, Amelia let out a short, bitter laugh.[]
Nathan’s hands clenched. He kept his eyes on the courthouse steps, watching couples come and go.[]
He’d thought about kids before. Late at night, after sex, he’d sometimes trace circles on Amelia’s stomach and murmur, “Maybe we should start trying soon.” It was always someday, eventually, when things settled down]
Chapter 2
But Vivian only had six months. After that, everything would go back to normal. There’d be plenty of time for babies then.
“Last chance to back out,” Amelia said quietly. “Do you really want to do this?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” The anger in his voice was sharp, real. “Vivian’s at home waiting for an answer. Don’t start playing games.“]
Instead of responding, Amelia pulled out a thick manila envelope and handed it to him.[]
Nathan frowned as he opened it. Property division agreement. Legal letterhead, official seals, the works.[]
“Since we’re doing this, we might as well do it right,” she said, her tone businesslike. “I’m only taking what’s legally mine. Everything else stays with your family.“]
She placed a pen on the center console. “The cooling–off period starts once we sign. Whatever money we make during the separation belongs to each of us individually.”
Nathan scanned the document. It was thorough, professional, and surprisingly generous to him. Her signature was already there in careful script.[]
“What’s this about?” He looked up at her. “It’s just temporary. Six months, then we’re back to normal.“|||
“Maybe. Maybe not.“[]
Something cold settled in his stomach. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just sign it, Nathan.“[]
He studied her face, looking for the crack, the tell that would reveal her angle. Amelia always had an angle–some way to make him feel guilty or sorry for her. She’d tried it before with those fake messages she claimed were from Vivian.[]
But her expression was unreadable.
Fine. Let her play whatever game this is.[]
Nathan grabbed the pen and signed with sharp, aggressive strokes. No one manipulated him. Not anymore.[]
Two copies. Amelia folded hers neatly and slipped it into her purse.]
The actual filing was bureaucratic and cold. Take a number, submit paperwork, fill out forms. The clerk explained the thirty–day waiting period with the enthusiasm of someone reading a grocery list. They each got a receipt with a return date circled in red ink.
Outside, the September sun was surprisingly warm. Nathan watched a young couple emerge from the building, both grinning, the woman showing off her ring to anyone who’d look
He remembered Amelia doing the same thing a year ago. Practically glowing as she called her friends to share the news.[]
Now she stood beside him like she was waiting for a bus.[]
“I’ll keep your account funded during the separation,” he said, not looking at her. “And remember what I said about my grandparents.“[]
He started walking toward his car, then stopped. “Amelia.“[]
She looked at him, eyebrows raised.[]
“This is temporary. You get that, right?”
“Sure, Nathan.”
Something about the way she said it bothered him, but Vivian was waiting. He got in his car and drove away without looking back.[]
Amelia watched his Maybach disappear into traffic. When her Uber arrived, she climbed in and gave the driver an address on the Upper East Side.[]
Two cars. Two different destinations.[]
13%
Chapter 2
Nathan pulled up outside Vivian’s design studio, a trendy space in SoHo with floor–to–ceiling windows and Instagram–worthy displays. She was waiting by the door, wearing a soft yellow dress that made her look fragile and beautiful.[]
“How did it go?” she asked, searching his face.]
Nathan pulled out his receipt and showed her. “All taken care of. She signed everything without a fight.“[]
Forty blocks away, Amelia sat in an exam room at Mount Sinai, staring at the motivational posters on the walls. The paper crinkled under her as she shifted on the table.
“Mia, honey, are you absolutely sure about this?” Dr. Harper Lopez pulled up a stool, her face creased with concern. “You’ve been trying to get pregnant for months. Just last year you were asking me about fertility supplements.“]
Amelia placed the courthouse receipt on the small table beside her, right next to the positive pregnancy test she’d taken yesterday morning.
“I’m sure,” she said, her voice steady as stone.
“I want it gone.”
