Chapter 4

Eliza Hodges POV:

I stood there, watching Kai, a quiet storm brewing within me. The rage was a cold, unfamiliar thing, unlike the hot, consuming anger I had once felt. It was a clear, sharp certainty.

Just then, Camden' s car pulled into the driveway, tires squealing. He emerged, his face a thundercloud, his eyes darting between me and Kai.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, striding towards us, his voice laced with suspicion. "Eliza, what did you say to him?"

I met his gaze, a sardonic smile touching my lips. "Don't worry, Camden. I wouldn't dream of laying a hand on your precious Kai. My hands are reserved for more beautiful creations."

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths. "Don't play games with me, Eliza. You know how sensitive Kai is. He's just a young man, easily influenced. He's not like you, hardened by years of... disappointment."

He tried to soften his tone, a manipulative tactic I' d seen countless times. "He' s young, Eliza. So much potential. You wouldn't want to hurt his career, would you?"

"No," I cut him off, my voice clear and steady. "I wouldn't. And I won't. I'm done. Done with all of it."

Camden' s expression shifted, a puzzled frown replacing his anger. He took a step closer, reaching out as if to touch my arm, a familiar gesture of appeasement. But I instinctively stepped back, putting a silent, invisible barrier between us.

His hand dropped, and his face contorted with sudden fury. "Fine! You want to be difficult? You want to push me away? Is that it? Are you trying to force my hand? Because I swear, Eliza, if you keep this up, I'll divorce you. I'll make sure you regret it."

His words, once a powerful weapon, now felt hollow, impotent. How many times had I heard them? How many times had I caved, fearing the end, fearing the loneliness? Each time, I would reassure him, placate him, sacrifice another piece of myself to keep the fragile peace.

But not anymore.

"Fine," I said, the word ringing with a strange, liberating finality. "Divorce me."

Camden froze, his mouth agape. His eyes, usually so full of self-assurance, now held a bewildered shock. He had expected tears, pleas, a desperate cling. He hadn' t expected this calm, unwavering acceptance.

"What did you say?" he whispered, as if he hadn't heard me correctly.

"I said, divorce me," I repeated, my voice stronger now, a rising tide of resolve. "I'm done, Camden. I'm truly, utterly done."

His face flushed crimson, a vein throbbing in his temple. "Done? Done with what? With me? With your pathetic little art projects? You're nothing without me, Eliza! You couldn't survive a day outside my shadow! You're an artist, not a businesswoman!"

His insults, once capable of crushing my spirit, now felt like distant echoes, powerless. He was screaming into a void. I simply watched him, a detached observer.

"Don't tell me you're playing some kind of twisted game," he snarled, his voice laced with desperation. "Trying to make me jealous? Trying to get my attention?"

A profound weariness settled over me. The fight was gone. The love was gone. Even the anger was largely gone, replaced by a dull ache of exhaustion. "No, Camden," I said, my voice soft, almost pitying. "There are no games left to play. I'm tired. I'm just... tired."

I took a deep breath, the crisp autumn air filling my lungs, a promise of new beginnings. "I'll instruct my lawyers to prepare the papers. I'll be out of the house by the end of the week." My eyes flickered to Kai, who was now watching us with a mix of fear and triumph. "And you might want to consider keeping your new 'partner' on a tighter leash. He has a habit of breaking things."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving them standing there, bewildered and exposed. I didn't look back.

I walked until my legs ached, then found a quiet bench in a small park. I lit a cigarette, the first one in years, the acrid smoke a bitter comfort. I gazed at the wisps of smoke curling into the twilight sky, reflecting on the seven years I had given him. Seven years of my life, my dreams, my art. All for nothing. But a strange sense of lightness filled me. It was over.

My phone buzzed. An email. It was the fellowship offer from the renowned glass art studio in Italy. The one I had almost forgotten about, pushed aside by the crushing weight of Camden' s expectations. I opened it, the words shimmering like a promise.

"We are delighted to offer Eliza Hodges the prestigious Glass Artist Fellowship..."

A new life. A new beginning. A chance to reclaim myself. I accepted, the click of the email sending a ripple of determination through my weary soul.