Chapter 3

Mark didn't come home that night. Sarah wasn't surprised. She knew he had gone to Emily' s. It was his pattern. Whenever they had a disagreement, whenever she failed to be the perfectly understanding wife he expected, he would retreat to the memory of his first love. Now, he could retreat to the real thing.

The morning sun streamed into the kitchen, and for the first time in a long time, Sarah felt a sense of peace. The house was quiet, but it wasn't a lonely quiet anymore. It was a peaceful one. She made plans. She would call a lawyer. She would find her own apartment. She would start painting again, seriously this time. The thought of it, of a life that was truly her own, was exhilarating.

That afternoon, she met her two best friends, Chloe and Jessica, for coffee. They had been friends since college, and they had watched her transform from an ambitious artist into a subdued housewife.

"Look who it is," Chloe said with a grin as Sarah sat down. "We were about to send a search party. We thought Mark had you locked in your art-free tower."

Sarah laughed, a genuine laugh. "The dragon has flown the coop."

"What's going on? You seem different," Jessica noted, her expression more serious. "Good different."

"Mark and I are getting a divorce," Sarah announced, the words feeling solid and real. "I'm leaving him."

Her friends stared at her, momentarily stunned into silence. Then Chloe let out a low whistle. "Finally. It's about time you dumped that self-absorbed jerk."

"What happened?" Jessica asked gently.

"Emily happened," Sarah said, her voice bitter. "His precious Emily is back in town. I was always just the stand-in, the consolation prize. The original is back in stock, so the replacement is being discontinued." She told them about the canceled anniversary dinner, the pre-signed divorce papers, the constant neglect.

Just as she was finishing her story, her phone rang. It was Mark. She ignored it, but he called again, and again. On the fourth call, she answered, putting it on speaker.

"What do you want, Mark?" she asked, her voice tired.

"Where are you? What did you say to my mother?" he demanded, his voice tight with anger.

Sarah was confused. "What are you talking about? I haven't spoken to your mother in a week."

"Don't lie to me, Sarah! She called me, crying, asking why we were getting a divorce. She said you told her you were leaving me. What game are you playing?"

Sarah sighed. She hadn't said a word to his parents. They must have found out some other way. She remembered their marriage had been a bit of an arrangement. Her family wasn't wealthy, but they had a good name. Mark's parents were "new money," and they had wanted the social standing a marriage to her would bring. They had always been kind to her, doting on her in a way that sometimes felt suffocating. They had loved the image of her as their perfect, well-bred daughter-in-law.

She knew his parents getting involved would complicate things. They would try to mediate, to push for a reconciliation. They would be disappointed in Mark, but they would also pressure her to be forgiving, to maintain the family image. She didn't have the energy for that fight. All she wanted was a clean break.

"I'm not playing any games, Mark," she said, her voice weary. "I'm at a coffee shop with Chloe and Jessica."

"You need to come home right now and fix this," he ordered, his tone arrogant and demanding. "Call my mother and tell her it was a misunderstanding. We can talk about... whatever this is... later."

The audacity of it was breathtaking. He was the one who had signed divorce papers behind her back, the one who was sleeping with another woman, and he was ordering her to clean up his mess.

"No," she said.

"Sarah, don't be difficult. Come home now. This is your last chance." The threat was clear in his voice. This was his final offer to let her come back, to pretend none of this had happened. The king was graciously allowing the disgraced queen to beg for her position back.

She almost laughed. A last chance at what? A life of being ignored and undervalued? A marriage that was a lie?

"Goodbye, Mark," she said, and hung up the phone.