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“Suttons,” I forced out. Suttons was a neutral lunch spot, classy enough for an intimate lunch meeting, but public enough that I would be in no danger.
He shrugged. “Fine.”
This response was the last—and I could not stress this enough, theabsolute last—response I’d expected from him.
But maybe he was done fighting for a marriage that had never worked. Just like I was done fighting to convince myself this arrangement could continue. Maybe Eli had seen the light.
We moved into the board room, where my father, Robert, and Frank already waited. My father didn’t greet us. Robert and Frank grunted their hellos. I could barely concentrate. Between Eli’s white flag of surrender and Axel’s ongoing media fallout, I couldn’t do anything beyond hold my breath and hope.
And wait. And hope some more.
The meeting passed intolerably slowly. It was complete business as usual despite how much the foundation of this world was actively crumbling. Even while pursuing a divorce and being on the receiving end of my father’s vitriol, we could still be here and pretend nothing was different.
I just wasn’t sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
Our meeting broke up just as noon rolled around. My father had treated everyone with the same level of distant disdain, so I couldn’t gauge what his standing with Eli was, either. I knew better than to try to speak to him to find out. I’d only face stoniness, or worse. We all filed through the doorway, but Eli stopped me in the hallway once the others had walked ahead.
“Let’s ride together.”
“No. I’ll take my own car.”
His nice guy façade cracked, a dark shadow twisting his features for the briefest of moments. “Only using the Fairchild vehicles now, huh?”
Something awful churned in my gut, as if I were seconds away from emptying the contents of my stomach after a bad takeout experience.
“It doesn’t matter.” I straightened my back. “I don’t want to ride with you, so I won’t.”
He ran his tongue across the inside of his bottom lip. “See you there.”
Once Eli disappeared down the hallway, I allowed myself to crumple. Whatever awaited me, it was calculated. This wasn’t an expression of goodwill. This was strategized. I just couldn’t see the end game. If he wantedme,it wasn’t because he was getting anything meaningful out of it. The best I could guess was that he felt pressured to uphold the elite pairing that Wall Street loved, the type of power marriage that would go down in the history books.
I didn’t want to go down in history with the sadness on my face that every trapped and abused woman would recognize. I couldn’t stand to look at pictures of us in the media, either. All I could see was my own misery, written into the shadows of my face.
If nothing else, I wanted to look at a picture of myself and know that I had tried to be happy. I wanted to fucking try.
I repeated this to myself as I prepared for the lunch meeting and braved crosstown traffic in one of the Fairchild vehicles, as Eli had correctly guessed. Axel hadn’t texted much since our goodbye kiss that morning. Just one text had come in during the board meeting.
AXEL: Tell me how the board meeting goes. Stay strong, cowgirl.
CORA: Survived. Surprisingly. I’m meeting Eli for lunch now to go over the papers. Wish me luck.
AXEL: Do you need reinforcements? I can come lurk in the lobby of wherever you go.
I laughed, my throat tightening suddenly from emotion. He was willing to drop what he was doing to come support me, even in the middle of his own shitstorm. Axel had extended more support and tenderness to me in a matter of weeks than Eli had shown in years.
CORA: Personally, I want that. But practically, we shouldn’t. I’ll text you after. Promise.
I entered Suttons with my game face on. I’d brought my briefcase full of legal documents and leaked emails courtesy of Damian, just in case Eli needed to cross-reference something. I’d made the divorce as palatable as possible, ceding him all the gains jointly acquired throughout the marriage. Our prenup protected what I’d walked in with, which meant he was getting all the houses and helicopters. Fair enough. When it came down to it, I wanted nothing anyway.
I was doing this for the freedom.
The restaurant was packed and clamorous, excited conversations echoing through the high-ceilinged room. Enormous antique portraits dotted the walls, while servers skittered around wearing frilly black aprons and high buns. I spotted Eli across the restaurant, smiling at the server in a way that made my gut constrict. I knew that smile. It was the same smile he’d sent to Jazz all those times he’d shown up during my sessions with her. He was probably fucking the server. He’d probably been fucking her for months. I swallowed back a wave of nausea.
You can do this.
Axel thought I could do it too. That was just as important.
Keep moving forward.
