Delaney James was wearing Chanel the night her husband told her he didn't love her anymore.
In an instant, her picture-perfect Manhattan life-complete with a brownstone on the Upper East Side, a blossoming career as a fashion journalist, and a devas...
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"What are you doing here?"
For weeks I imagined this moment—him on my doorstep, saying it was over with Chelsea, that I was the only woman he'd ever loved, begging me to take him back. In every daydream I did. I prayed for it, believed if I pictured it enough I could manifest it. Every knock at the door, I hoped it would be him. It never was.
"I came for you," Will says now. "I'm taking you back to New York with me."
"Excuse me?" Greyson's voice is low, angry.
"She isn't going—"
"What do you mean you're taking me back to New York?" I cut in. "We're in the middle of a divorce."
"That's a mistake. I messed up."
"Damn right you did," Greyson snaps.
"We can work this out. You're my wife, Delaney. We shouldn't throw our marriage away over one stupid mistake." He steps toward me, reaching for my hand. I fold my arms and back away. "I ended things with Chelsea."
His face is in that lawyer mask I know so well, cool and unreadable. I can't tell if he's telling the truth or playing me.
"Did you end things with her, or did she break up with you?" Greyson asks.
Will exhales. "It doesn't matter because it was over before it even started. I would have ended it eventually."
"That's a roundabout way of saying she dumped you," Greyson mumbles to himself.
"Sweetie, listen to me," Will pleads. "I don't want a divorce anymore. I never should have let you leave."
"You're right," I say evenly.
"Delaney, please. I miss you. I don't even know who I am without you. I'm... lost. I love you. You're the only one for me."
My heart drops at the words. Will's not just an attorney; he's a narcissist. He knows exactly which strings to pull, and seven years together makes it even easier. He could still break me down—if Greyson hadn't built me back up. Greyson tells me I'm important, makes me feel it with every kiss, every quiet affirmation. Without him, without the strength and confidence I've reclaimed, I'd already be on a plane back to New York with Will.
"I don't know what you want me to say," I tell him.
"I know I hurt you. I think I had to lose you to realize how important you are. I didn't know how much I loved you until you were gone."
If there was any doubt left, those words drive the final nail in the coffin. We had problems, but I never needed to lose him to know I loved him. I never needed space, time, or someone else to reevaluate our marriage. On our wedding day I vowed to love him through the worst of times—and I meant it. He didn't. I can't give everything to someone who only offers the bare minimum. I won't.
