I came back to that house one more time, and it was not to say sorry.
My lip was still split and my hands were steady, which felt like a small miracle.
Nia: Tell me you are not alone in that house with him.
Wren: I am alone for now. I am packing.
Nia: Good. The couch is made and I already moved my junk off it. Bring the ugly lamp.
Three years of my life fit into one duffel bag and half a suitcase, and that was the most honest thing I had learned all week.
I took my sketches, my good scissors, and the sweater that smelled like the studio instead of him.
Brynn: Oh, this is rich. The placeholder is running away.
Brynn: Where will you go, Wren? Back to your little flower shop and your fat friend?
Wren: Anywhere you are not. I would sleep in a bus shelter first.
Brynn: He will cut your father off by Friday. Mother already called the lawyer.
Wren: Then he will cut him off. I am done paying for that house with my face.
Brynn: He never wanted you, Wren. He wanted the audit signed and a wife who keeps her mouth shut.
Brynn: I am the one he actually likes.
She smiled like that was supposed to break me, and last week it would have.
I pulled my wedding ring off my finger, and the skin underneath was pale and soft, like it had been waiting to breathe.
Three years of cold metal, and it came off easier than I expected.
His study smelled like coffee and paper, and he was on the phone with someone who mattered.
I put the ring down on his desk without one word.
Cade: Hang on. What is this?
Wren: That is me giving you back your paperwork.
He came around the desk slow, and my pulse jumped at the smell of him before my brain caught up.
Cade: Take it back and go upstairs.
Wren: I am moving in with Nia tonight.
He stepped in until his shoes touched mine, and a hot pull went through me that I hated with my whole body.
Cade: Look at me and say it again.
Wren: I am moving out, Cade. I am not your decoration and I am not your placeholder.
Cade: You are my wife. There is a contract, an audit, and a family that eats liars alive.
Cade: Your father's debts. One phone call and he loses the house.
Wren: Make the call. I will help him pack.
His jaw moved, and for the first time his voice had a crack in it.
Cade: You cannot afford this. You will come back in a week with your tail down.
Wren: Maybe. But it will be my choice, not yours.
His face went hard then, the way it does before he says something meant to leave a mark.
Cade: Then go. But do not think for one second that this is finished.
I left my ring shining on his desk like a small cold promise, and I did not look back at it.
I had no money and no plan, but I had the hallway and my own two feet.
Behind me, Cade Van Holt stood in his study and did not call my name.