He swore on his life he’d never hurt me, that he’d make my heart sing forever.

At eighteen, we’d have believed those promises were practically etched in granite.

Now, he casually ripped open old wounds, shredding those once-sacred vows like cheap tissue paper.

Three days after packing my bags and ditching the Walker mansion, I found myself standing outside the newly opened wellness and therapy clinic.

This was my second investment in the business.

“Ma’am, the new spot is absolutely killing it! The techniques you taught everyone are next-level genius.”

Well, duh. They were effective. For years, I’d poured over and perfected all sorts of therapeutic and pressure-point methods, all for Sebastian’s damn eye condition.

After more than a decade of grinding, I’d become a legit ocular wellness specialist.

Sebastian’s eye problems? A thing of the past.

Aurora Jones had stumbled upon my skills by pure chance and became determined to apprentice under me, practically begging to learn my tricks.

Seeing how dedicated and hardworking she was, I taught her a ton of methods and even backed her to open our own clinic.

Aurora totally delivered. Less than a year later, the second branch was booming, and we were already mapping out a third.

Seeing how swamped she was, I figured it was time for me to bounce.

Then, BAM! I ran smack into Valentina at the entrance.

She was rocking killer red stilettos, her expression dripping with condescension, casually dropping hints about her closeness with Sebastian like it was no big deal.

I wasn’t about to crash her party on opening day, so I turned to dip.

But Valentina was fast. She strode right past me.

“Sebastian, look! Natalie’s so worried about you, she even followed you all the way here.”

She launched into a whiny, mocking monologue directed at Sebastian.

A flash of pure anger crossed Sebastian’s face, and his voice was stiff as he turned to me.

“What game are you playing? You said you wouldn’t come home, yet here you are, skulking around and following me! Is this some kind of sick joke?”

Valentina kept up her Oscar-worthy performance.

“Natalie doesn’t even have a job, and she’s dropping cash on spa treatments and massages. She’s probably here to hit you up for money, right?”

Hearing that, some of Sebastian’s anger seemed to dissipate, but his tone remained ice-cold.

“Enough of this drama queen act. Just come home. I’ll wire you a million later.”

“You throw a tantrum like a child every single day. It’s really unbecoming.”

I almost burst out laughing. Was that really how he saw me? I couldn't help but throw a sarcastic barb back.

“Mr. Walker, am I just your pretty little trophy now? Aren’t you worried your soon-to-be Mrs. Walker might get the wrong impression?”

Sebastian always managed to keep his cool around Valentina. He shot me a look.

“Selena misses you. Cut this crap and come home.”

I just shook my head, my voice steady.

“Mr. Walker, you truly have too much time on your hands. Perhaps we should schedule a date to finally sign those divorce papers.”

I turned and walked away.

Sebastian’s voice dripped with disdain.

“You… you don’t even care about your own daughter. No wonder my mother always said you were a terrible mother.”

My steps faltered for a beat, but I kept walking.

Sebastian started to move towards me but was yanked back by Valentina.

“Sebastian, look, there’s the manager. Let’s go chat with them.”

Sebastian threw one last glance at my retreating back before changing course and heading into the clinic with Valentina.

After years as a trophy wife, my entire existence had revolved around Sebastian.

Leaving the Walker estate meant I had to completely rewire everything—new habits, new social circles, a whole new damn life.

I’d had my lawyer push Sebastian to expedite the divorce.

Then Sebastian messaged me, asking me to come home to discuss the divorce.

And stuff about our daughter.

After a serious bout of hesitation, I decided to go.

When I walked in, I saw my daughter sitting there, playing nice and quiet beside Valentina.

My heart twisted, but a fiery anger also surged. “Sebastian, where’s the lawyer?”

Sebastian stood up, then sat back down. His reply was chillingly simple, “This is a family dinner. We’re not discussing business today.”

A family dinner? Since when did a family dinner include a personal assistant? My temper flared.