Chapter 1After seven years, my boyfriend, Sean Winters finally divorced his arranged-marriage wife.
I stood outside his office, clutching a thermos of chicken soup I'd simmered for five hours.
My pregnancy test report was carefully folded in my inner pocket.
As I reached his door, his best friend's voice carried through the gap.
"Sean, enough. Seven years of this drama—when are you actually gonna sign the divorce papers?"
"Lanie was only 20 when she was with you! She gave you everything—three years as your girlfriend, seven more in the shadows while you played house with Charlotte. She's almost thirty, man. If you don't love Charlotte, end it already. Give Lanie what she deserves."
I felt a smile starting to break across my face—until Sean's next words stopped me cold.
"Charlotte's pregnant."
His friend's voice exploded with disbelief.
"Again? Your first kid's already five, and you don’t even dare to tell Lanie!"
"You're finally getting divorced and now—a baby number two?! What are you gonna do?"
The silence that followed felt endless.
"She's keeping it. That was one of Charlotte's conditions for divorce—I never have children with anyone else."
My fingers clenched around the thermos so hard the scalding metal edge nearly broke skin.
So this was what heartbreak felt like—every inch of my chest burning with pain.
I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in years.
"Aunt Annie, I'm coming with you to Africa."
I hung up and flagged down a cab.
Outside the window, the city blurred past—just like the absurd decade I'd wasted on Sean Winters.
In the beginning, I was his legitimate girlfriend.
But then he said, "Lanie, we're from different worlds. My mother would never approve."
He said, "Lanie, it's just a business arrangement. There's nothing between Charlotte and me. You have to trust me."
On their wedding day, he even brought me face-to-face with his 'wife' to reassure me of my place in his life.
That stunning heiress swirled her wine glass and smiled at me.
"Don't feel bad, Miss Brooke."
"I have someone I love too. Sean and I are just business partners."
"We'll divorce when the timing's right. Just be patient."
SEVEN YEARS.
That's how long I'd been "patient."
Looking back now, they'd had countless opportunities to divorce.
Maybe it wasn't that they *couldn't*. Maybe they just didn't *want* to.
I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my thigh, but the pain didn't register. Tears slid silently down my face.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror and passed back a tissue.
"Hey, sweetheart. As long as you're breathing, nothing's impossible to get through. Don't give up on yourself."
"You're still so young. You should get out there and see the world!"
I stared out the window, repeating his words in my mind.
*Yeah. As long as you're alive, you can survive anything.*
*Lanie Brooke, it's time to find yourself again.*
---
Back at the apartment, I heard water running in the bathroom—Sean was in the shower.
I turned on the TV. Aunt Annie was doing a live broadcast from Africa, the great wildebeest migration thundering behind her.
It was the first time I'd watched her work since graduating college.
Seven years ago, Aunt Annie had asked me to study abroad and travel the world with her as her photography assistant.
I'd been tempted. God, I'd been SO tempted.
But I couldn't leave Sean.
He'd clung to me and cried the entire night. Then he tattooed my name over his heart.
The Winters family had strict rules—no one in the family was allowed to get tattoos. Ever.
But he'd broken that rule for me.
That's why I loved Sean so recklessly, so completely.
One gesture from him, and I'd fall apart all over again.
Chapter 2
Sean emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel and came up behind me.
Something cold slipped around my neck—a necklace.
He leaned down, his warm lips brushing against my skin.
"You like it?"
It tickled. I tilted my head away. "I'm exhausted today."
He didn't pick up on the coldness in my voice. His hands settled on my shoulders, kneading gently.
"Charlotte signed the papers. Three more months and I'm finally free."
"When it's done, I'll take you to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. We'll go to Hawaii, then exchange vows at the base of a snow-covered mountain.
We'll spend the rest of our lives together. How about that?”
His voice carried the relief of a man who'd just shed a massive burden. I forced a brittle smile, my voice eerily calm.
"Congrats."
I wasn't even sure what I was congratulating him for—the divorce, or baby number two.
My flat response threw him off balance.
He turned me around to face him, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Lanie, aren't you happy? You've waited SEVEN YEARS for this."
I reached up and smoothed the crease between his eyebrows, softening my voice back to what he was used to.
"Of course I'm happy. Sean, do you remember what you promised me? You said you'd never lie to me."
His arms stiffened around me. I could feel him avoiding my eyes.
He let go, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and said, "Lanie, I love you! Everything I do is for us—for YOU! You have to trust me."
I pushed him away gently, gave him a small smile, and walked into the bathroom.
Staring at my reflection—almost thirty years old—I felt completely lost.
I'd spent the best years of my life revolving around Sean Winters.
I believed he loved me.
But Sean at thirty couldn't afford to have a world made only of love.
He had family obligations.
Responsibilities as a father.
Even after ten years, Sean and I were never going to end up on the same path.
Chapter 3
That night I lay in bed scrolling through my phone, Sean's arms wrapped around me from behind.
A message from Brittany popped up.
"Holy shit! Lanie! That Heart of the Ocean necklace Sean bought at the charity gala last week—that's gotta be for you, right?!"
Below was a high-resolution photo.
In it, a massive sapphire necklace glittered under the lights.
I thought back to the necklace Sean had clasped around my neck.
It was beautiful, well-crafted even—but nothing compared to the one in that photo.
So that necklace... wasn't meant for me.
A sour, hollow ache spread through my chest, creeping into my limbs until they went numb.
I bit my lip to keep the tears back, but the movement woke Sean.
Sensing my quiet sobs, he let out a soft, affectionate sigh, rolled me over gently, and peppered my face with tender kisses.
When his lips met the wetness on my cheeks, he whispered, "I'm sorry, baby. I made you cry again."
That was Sean. Right or wrong, he always knew exactly how to melt me.
---
The next morning, his side of the bed was empty. A courier arrived with a white cocktail dress.
My phone rang. Sean's deep voice came through.
"Morning, sleepyhead. You up? I need you to come to an event with me tonight."
I hesitated.
He chuckled reassuringly. "Don't worry. It's just a birthday party for a friend's son."
I ended up wearing the dress.
---
That evening, Sean took my hand as we stepped out of the car. Dozens of eyes fixed on me instantly.
Whispers buzzed around us like flies.
"So *that's* the sugar baby who's been waiting for seven years?"
"She's pretty, I'll give her that. Almost thirty though, right? Guess she finally made it."
I nearly tripped. Sean caught me by the waist, steadying me with a reassuring pat and a warm smile.
I exhaled slowly and straightened up.
Within minutes, a group of business associates pulled Sean away.
I stood there clutching a glass of champagne, feeling utterly out of place.
Suddenly, a ripple moved through the crowd.
I looked up. Charlotte Vanderbilt was walking straight toward me, her arm looped through a handsome guy.
She wore a stunning red gown. Her pregnancy didn't show yet.
But the enormous sapphire around her neck practically seared into my vision.
She stopped right in front of me, her gaze dropping to the necklace at my throat.
"Miss Brooke, that necklace looks lovely on you. Guess I picked the right one."
I froze. My blood ran cold.
She continued, as if she hadn't noticed my face draining of color, her tone light and sweet.
"Sean's hopeless at this stuff. Total guy, you know?"
"He mentioned wanting to get you a gift, I thought I'd save him the trouble and pick something out myself. I hope you don't mind?"
Mockery. Pity. Schadenfreude.
Every expression I'd feared seeing flashed across the faces around me.
I bolted, stumbling through the crowd.
