Hidden Heir, Broken Heart

Signed documents

Brooke POV

I read through the letter one more time after finishing it. I am satisfied. I set it aside and turned back to the divorce papers.

I work through each signature line methodically. When I reach the alimony section, twenty million dollars. I feel a flash of indignation cut through the grief. Twenty million. As if that is what any of this was ever about. I am Jace Turner's daughter. My father is one of the most respected cardiac surgeons in the country. The offer is not generous. It is an insult.

I cross it out and sign anyway.

I continue through each page. My hand is steady even when my chest is not. When I reach the last signature line, I pause. This is it. The only thing I ever truly wanted was a life with Nathan. a real one, the kind I used to dream about when we were young and everything still felt possible. Three years of marriage, and it ends here, on a bedside table, in a room that never quite felt like mine.

I signed.

I place the papers on the bedside table. I set my letter on top. Then I slide my wedding ring off my finger and place it on top of the letter.

If I am leaving, I am leaving completely. I do not want a single thing that will remind me of him. of this following me out the door.

I called my father's driver and asked him to come. Then I go to the closet.

I try to take only what I brought into this marriage. Every outfit Nathan bought me and he had bought many. always knowing my size, my taste, my favorite designers I leave behind. I used to think that knowing those things meant something. Maybe it did. Maybe it was just a habit. Either way, it is staying here.

My phone buzzes while I am packing.

I assume it is the driver confirming he is on his way. I finish folding the last item in my bag before I check it.

It is not the driver. It is an unknown number.

There is an image attached. I click on it.

Nathan is sitting at a dining table in what I recognize is not our home. He is still in his work suit, but it is wrinkled. His hair is disheveled. He is holding a cup of coffee. He looks like he slept there.

Below the image, the caption reads: You might be the wife that trapped him. But he is mine. He loves me and wants to be with me, not you.

I stare at it for a moment.

Keren. I always suspected she was behind the messages, the photos, the tips about his whereabouts, all of it. This confirms it. She has been feeding me information this entire time. watching me unravel, and now she wants to make sure I know she has won.

My eyes start to sting.

"No," I say out loud. "Not now. Not here. Wait until you leave."

I take a slow breath and type back.

So it was you all this time, Keren. You kept sending me pictures and everything else. Anyway, you have nothing to worry about anymore. You can have him.

I sent it. And then I sit with the strange, quiet realization that it did not hurt the way I expected. There is something almost like pride in it that I could write those words and mean them and still be standing.

But Nathan needs to know. The person sending me information about his own life was the woman he was protecting. I take a screenshot of the exchange and forward it to his number, then type a separate message.

I have signed the divorce papers. I don't need your twenty million. I am the daughter of one of the greatest doctors in this country. I am doing perfectly well without it. Thank you for putting up with me for three years. I am sorry for everything.

I sent it.

Then I go back to the letter and add a final note at the bottom.

Like I said in my message, I don't need alimony. I have signed the papers as you wanted. Also the screenshot I sent you. I thought you should know, even if none of it matters anymore.

I set the note back on top of the papers.

A call comes through shortly after. It was my father's driver, telling me he had arrived.

I pick up my handbag. I stand in the middle of the room and look around one last time.

My eyes find the wedding photo on the wall. The enlarged one. I remember that day. I remember how full of light I felt. How completely certain I was that everything was finally beginning. I look at myself in the photo. smiling so wide, so open, so sure.

Then I look at Nathan.

I do not know how I never noticed it before. His expression is not angry. It is not sad. It is simply closed. a face going through the motions of a moment that belongs to someone else. I stare at it for a long time.

And then I feel something settle inside me. A kind of quiet. Not peace exactly, but clarity.

This is the right decision. For both of us.

I pick up my suitcase. I take one last look at the room, at the bed, the bedside table, the papers and the ring and the letter I left behind and I walk out.

I do not look back.