Ten Years Married, One Day Divorced

Chapter 2

Thirteen hours later, the flight touched down at Milan with a soft rumble. A light drizzle was falling over the city, the air crisp and cool.

I turned my phone back on, and dozens of messages from Jack's assistant, Kevin, flooded in at once on w******p.

Kevin: Mrs. Lawson, where are you? Mr. Lawson is furious.

Kevin: Last night's dinner was a complete disaster. Ms. Anderson said the wrong thing during the toast, and Mr. Lawson drank so much covering for her that he ended up with a gastric bleed. He's in the hospital right now.

Kevin: Could you please call him back?

I stared at the words "gastric bleeding" for a long time. Back then, if Jack felt even a little queasy, I would simmer a pot of warm millet porridge and sit by his bedside around the clock. Now he had landed himself in the hospital playing hero for his so-called "buddy," and they still expected me to drop everything to take care of him.

I typed back.

Me: I'm out of the country. Contact my lawyer, Thompson, if you need anything.

I hit send and closed w******p entirely. The car the studio sent to pick me up was already waiting at the exit.

Anna, the studio's founder, pulled me into a warm hug. "Tamara, you finally decided to come back." Her eyes were full of relief and delight.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, Anna."

Three years ago, Anna had invited me to join her Milan studio as chief designer. Back then, Jack's company was just getting off the ground and its funding had completely collapsed. He held me and cried all night. I turned down the Milan offer without a second thought and stayed to grind through the hardest days with him. I even used my own private client list to help him land his first round of investment.

Now he was rich and successful, with the young, beautiful Kate in his arms. And me? I was finally getting back on the path that was always meant to be mine.

Once I got to my apartment, I opened my laptop and logged into the studio's internal system. An unknown number called, the caller ID showing it was from back home.

I picked up, Kate's voice came through. "Tamara, you actually went abroad?" She couldn't hide the smug, cocky lilt in her tone.

"What do you want?" My voice was flat and cold.

"Oh, nothing serious. It's just that Jack is lying in the hospital right now and keeps calling your name. I'm terrible at taking care of people, so I'm just stressing out over here for no reason." She paused. "But come on, Tamara, Jack's company is about to go public. Freezing the client list at this critical moment—you're basically trying to ruin him, aren't you? Married couples don't hold grudges forever, you know. Unfreeze the list, and I'll get him to apologize to you, yeah?"

Listening to her bounce between "Tamara" and "Jack" made my stomach turn.

"Kate, who do you think you are to make demands of me?" I asked.

She went silent, caught off guard. "I—I'm Jack's best friend, obviously! Tamara, you're not jealous, are you?" She let out a high, giggly laugh. "When Jack gave this bracelet to me, I thought it was so old-fashioned, honestly. If you want it that badly, I'll courier it back to you tomorrow. No big deal."

My fingers tightened around the phone. "Send it back?"

"Yep! But it was too wide for my wrist, so I had a jeweler melt it down and reset it yesterday. I even had my initials carved on the inside. You don't mind, right, Tamara?"

Melted it down. Carved her own initials into it. I closed my eyes, and my mom's gaunt, thin wrist flashed through my mind—she never took that bracelet off, not even for a second.

That bracelet was the last thing she left me. Jack knew exactly how much it meant to me.

"Tamara? Are you still there?"

"Kate." I opened my eyes, my voice ice-cold. "You're proud of stealing some deadbeat man? What's there to gloat about?"

She froze, then squawked, "Tamara, you haven't heard, have you? Jack came to Milan! He even met Mr. Vanderbilt! Do you know who that is? He's the president of the Milan Jewelry Association. Tamara, the people Jack knows now are way out of your league."

"Are you sure they actually met?" I cut her off.

"O-of course they did! Who do you think Jack is? Even Mr. Vanderbilt has to show Jack respect."

I let out a dry, humorless laugh Jack couldn't get within a mile of Mr. Vanderbilt even if he paid his way in.

I didn't have the patience to listen to any more of her nonsense. I cut straight to the point. "Tell Jack I will never unfreeze that client list. And one more thing, don't call me ever again. Hearing your voice makes me sick."

I hung up and blocked the number.

The second I finished, an email from Anna popped up on my screen.

Tamara, I'd like you to attend the Milan International Jewelry Exhibition next week as our lead designer.

I wrote back: Sounds good.