After Our Marriage Went Cold

My name was Vivian Lowell, and as the New Year's bells rang across Northcrest, I received my first gift of the year. It was an intimate photo of my husband with another woman. In it, Ronan had Silvercrest's newest star, Scarlett Morgan, pinned up against a floor-to-ceiling window, fireworks blooming over Crownspire Tower behind them. Ten minutes earlier, Ronan had been out on the snowy grounds of the Sinclair estate, setting off fireworks with our 3-year-old, Lily Sinclair, up in his arms. That handsome face of his all soft as he told me, "Happy New Year, Vivian." Ten minutes later, he was in bed with another woman in a Kingsley Avenue penthouse. Almost as soon as the photo reached me, the story exploded across social media: #SinclairHeirMeetsScarlettMorganOnNewYearsEve. The once-lively ballroom fell silent. Every guest at the Northcrest society gala turned to stare at me. "Mrs. Sinclair…" My personal assistant, Thomas Reed, hurried over and dropped his voice. "PR's waiting on your call. Want us to run the usual play and blow the story up even bigger?" In the past, I would have done everything I could to create a scene and humiliate Ronan. The last time he was photographed getting close to a supermodel, I had his one-of-a-kind sports car smashed to pieces. When he threw a Valentine's Day party aboard his private yacht, I had the power cut and tipped off a swarm of reporters. Every time, Ronan simply watched with cold eyes while I lost control. Once I had exhausted myself, he casually dismissed the women involved. This time, however, my voice was strangely calm. "No. Tell PR to bury it." Thomas froze. Whispers rippled through the guests. "What did she say? Bury it? Did I hear that right?" "Has the almighty Lowell heiress finally run out of fight?" "She used to smash cars and set yachts on fire like a lunatic. Now she's finally learned to swallow her anger and pretend to be gracious?" They made no effort to keep their comments from reaching me. I ignored them and carried on with the gala. After the guests left, I carried Lily to her room, tucked her in, and went upstairs to the study. My mother-in-law, Madeleine Sinclair, was inside, rubbing her temples. The guilt on her face was unmistakable. "Vivian." She looked up. "Mom," I said softly. "You shouldn't have to endure this. I'm calling that bastard right now!" Madeleine called Ronan and put him on speaker. The background on his end was deafening, with Scarlett's sweet laughter woven through the noise. Ronan's voice had the languid drawl of a man soaked in alcohol. "Mom, I'm busy. It's New Year's Eve. I'll come back and apologize tomorrow." Scarlett laughed somewhere beside him. Ronan continued, "Her birthday is tonight, and I promised to spend it with her. Oh, and tell Vivian she handled the news well. She's finally starting to act like a proper Mrs. Sinclair. Tell her to keep it up. Bye." He hung up. Madeleine hurled a crystal glass against the desk. "That bastard!" I merely smiled, my gaze eerily calm. "Mom, I didn't come here to complain about him this time." I met her eyes. "Five years ago, my mother was dying of liver failure. You saved her life. I will always remember what you did for us. So when you asked me to marry Ronan and help him settle down, I agreed without hesitation. "I really did try. But once Lily turned 1, he went back to his old ways. For the past two years, I've made scene after scene and humiliated both our families. You've always stood up for me, but I truly can't make him stay." Madeleine sighed. Her eyes reddened as she clasped my hand. "My dear, I used that favor to trap you back then. Tell me what you want. I'll agree to anything." I took an agreement from my purse and handed it to her. "I want a divorce and full custody of Lily. I'll leave with nothing. I don't want a cent from the Sinclair family." Madeleine nodded through red-rimmed eyes. "All right. I'll take care of it. Stay with me for two more weeks while we complete the custody transfer, please." I smiled, nodded, and turned to leave. As my hand closed around the doorknob, I heard Madeleine murmur tearfully behind me, "But five years ago... that bastard Ronan fell in love with you at first sight. He was the one who begged me to make sure you married him..." My footsteps faltered. She wasn't wrong. Ronan had loved me once, fierce enough to burn. Westbrook's most notorious playboy cut off every fling for me. When he proposed, he slid an agreement across the table signing over every asset he owned. Eyes red, he told me, "Everything I have is yours, Vivian. Me included." When I hemorrhaged during Lily's birth, he knelt in a church all night for the first time in his life and begged God to keep me safe. He had made me the exception to every rule and granted me every privilege. He made everyone believe the fairy tale of a rake redeemed by love. But sincerity was the flimsiest, most worthless thing on earth. The second I got back to the bedroom, my phone buzzed with a text from Ronan. Ronan: Heard you finally learned some manners tonight. Gonna take some getting used to. Ronan: I'm at Eclipse, VIP Suite 888, top floor. Bring me a box of condoms.