After the Divorce, My Billionaire Ex-Husband Went Mad

By eight-thirty, Sera had already moved the candle twice. The first time because it blocked the view of the skyline. The second time because she needed something to do with her hands. The waiter approached her table with the careful expression people reserved for women who had been sitting alone too long. "Would you like me to ask the kitchen to warm the food again, Mrs. Sterling?" Again. Not refill your water. Not another drink. Warm the food again. Sera glanced at the untouched steak across from her. Alexander hated cold food. "Not yet," she said with a polite smile. The waiter nodded and disappeared toward the kitchen. Outside the windows, rain blurred the city lights into streaks of gold and white. Restaurants like this were designed to make waiting feel elegant. Tonight, it wasn't working. Her phone lay face-up beside her plate. No messages. No missed calls. No explanation. She picked it up anyway. 8:37 PM. Their reservation had been for seven. Three years ago, Alexander had brought her to this same restaurant after they signed their marriage certificate. Not because it meant anything to him. Because it was seven minutes from his office. She still remembered laughing when he told her. "You planned our wedding lunch around traffic?" Alexander had looked genuinely confused. "It saves time." "That might be the least romantic thing anyone has ever said to me." "I can probably do worse." He hadn't been joking. Sera smiled despite herself at the memory. Alexander Sterling forgot birthdays. He forgot holidays. Once he'd forgotten he had agreed to attend his own charity gala and had to be dragged there by his assistant an hour before the event started. He remembered market trends from five years ago and quarterly reports from companies he'd never even acquired, but he couldn't remember where he'd left his car keys most mornings. Loving Alexander had always meant remembering enough for two people. For three years, she had convinced herself she didn't mind. At 8:42, her phone finally rang. Alexander. Her shoulders relaxed before she could stop them. "Hi." There was noise in the background. Footsteps crossed polished floors somewhere nearby, followed by the distant rattle of wheels and an announcement crackling through overhead speakers. Hospital. "I'm sorry," Alexander said immediately. "I can't make it tonight." Sera stared at the untouched wine glass across from her. "Oh." "Claire was in a car accident." Of course. For some reason, she had known before he said the name. "Is she okay?" "A few stitches. Mild concussion." "And she's alone?" "Her brother is flying in from Singapore." Meaning yes. Alexander let out a quiet breath. "I'm staying until he arrives." Sera looked down at the table between them. The steak he always ordered. The potatoes he liked. The bottle of wine she never particularly enjoyed but had ordered because he did. The waiter had automatically poured two glasses when she arrived. Some habits belonged to restaurants. Some belonged to marriages. "Okay," she said. A pause followed. Then Alexander asked, "Have you eaten?" Sera almost laughed. Not because he was wrong. Because somehow the question felt absurd. As if she were waiting for a delayed train instead of her husband. "No." "You should eat." "Alexander." "Yeah?" "What day is it today?" Silence. Not long. Just long enough. Her eyes drifted toward the small cake sitting near the window. Happy 3rd Anniversary, Mr. & Mrs. Sterling. The ampersand between their names had been piped in gold icing. Elegant. Careful. Thoughtful. It occurred to Sera that someone in the kitchen had probably spent more time thinking about their anniversary than Alexander had. Then she heard a voice on his end of the call. "Alexander? The doctor wants to speak with family members." Claire. He turned away slightly. "I'm coming." For some reason, that hurt more than forgetting the date. Because he sounded worried. Present. There. Sera couldn't remember the last time he had sounded like that for her. "Sera?" "Hm?" "I'm sorry." That was the worst part. He meant it. Alexander never lied to her. He simply kept choosing other things. Work, responsibility, his family, his company, and sometimes Claire. There never seemed to be enough left over for her. "It's fine," she said quietly. And suddenly she realized it was almost finished—not fine, never fine, but finished. There was a difference. "Take care of Claire." She ended the call before he could say anything else. Ten minutes later, the waiter returned. "Would you like a box for the cake, Mrs. Sterling?" Sera looked at it for a long moment. Three years ago she would have taken it home. They would eat it tomorrow instead. Or next week. Or forget about it in the refrigerator until someone threw it away. "No," she said. "You can give it to the staff." The waiter hesitated. "Are you sure?" "Very." By nine-fifteen, she had paid the bill. By nine-twenty, she was sitting in her car watching rain gather against the windshield. By nine-thirty-eight, she was standing inside the quiet of their penthouse. Home. The apartment smelled faintly of coffee and Alexander's cologne. For reasons she couldn't quite explain, that almost undid her. She slipped off her heels near the entrance. One of them tipped over. She left it where it fell. Their wedding photograph still hung on the wall opposite the door. Alexander looked exactly the same as he did now. Composed. Controlled. Annoyingly handsome. As though smiling too much might negatively affect shareholder confidence. She looked different. Hopeful. The kind of hopeful that embarrassed her a little now. Her phone buzzed. A message from her friend. How's anniversary dinner?? Sera stared at the screen. Then typed: Cancelled. The reply came almost immediately. Are you okay? Sera looked around the apartment. At the empty dining table. At the city lights outside the windows. At the wedding photo still hanging where she'd left it three years ago. Then she typed: I think I am. She sat there for a long time afterward, dry-eyed and wordless, with no tears, no anger, only the silence that came after something had finally ended. Eventually she walked into her study and opened the bottom drawer of her desk. The documents were exactly where she had left them. Prepared after their second anniversary. Never used. Back then, she had been angry when she asked her lawyer to draft them. Tonight, she only felt tired. Sera signed her name on the final page. Seraphina Vale Sterling. The pen hovered for a moment before she added the date beneath her signature. July 17. Someone should remember it. Even if it was only her. When Alexander came home after two in the morning, the apartment was dark. Only the lamp above the dining table remained on. His eyes landed immediately on the envelope beside the fruit bowl. He picked it up and opened it, scanning the first page and then the second. His expression didn't change; it rarely did. But when he reached the final page, he read it twice, then a third time. His phone buzzed in his pocket. Claire. He ignored it. For some reason, his attention had settled on the date beside Sera's signature. July 17. He frowned. The date felt familiar, important. His eyes shifted toward the calendar hanging beside the kitchen, where the same date had been circled in blue ink. July 17. Anniversary dinner. 7 PM. Alexander stood motionless for a long time before looking back at the cold food still waiting on the dining table. Two plates. Two glasses of wine. An entire evening that had waited for him and eventually given up. Only then did Alexander Sterling realize he had forgotten their anniversary. And for the first time in a very long time, he found himself wishing he could go back a few hours and make a different choice.