(Juliette's POV)

My phone rang at nine in the morning. It was Dominic's mother, Margaret.

"Is it true?" she asked, her tone as cold as ever. "You really agreed to the divorce."

"The papers are signed," I said. "My lawyer already talked to yours about the settlement. I'm only taking what I agreed to. Nothing more."

There was a pause on the line. I could almost see her narrowing her eyes, trying to catch a lie in my voice.

"Good," she said finally. "Since you're being reasonable, I'll be reasonable too. If you disappear from Dominic's life completely within a month - no calls, no showing up, nothing - the family will send you an additional sum. Privately, of course."

"Fine," I said, not even pausing to think about it. "I don't need the extra money, but if that's what makes you comfortable, I'll do it."

She hung up without another word.

I set the phone down and pulled out the divorce agreement from the drawer, already signed, already notarized. I folded it neatly, slid it into an envelope, sealed it, and placed it inside a gift box along with a letter I'd written days ago. I wrapped the box myself, tied the ribbon into a bow.

Then I texted Diana. I'll be back in the city in a month. I'm entering the design competition.

Her reply came fast. Finally. I always said it was a shame you dropped out all those years ago for marriage. Glad you're coming back to yourself.

At ten that night, the front door opened. Dominic walked in and pulled me into a hug before I could even say hello.

"Sorry I'm late," he murmured against my hair. "Traffic was brutal."

I caught it then - a trace of perfume on his collar, not mine. I knew exactly where he'd been. I didn't say anything. I just reached for the gift box on the coffee table and held it out to him.

"For you," I said.

His eyes lit up. "What is it?" He reached for the ribbon.

I put my hand over his. "Wait until next month. It's our anniversary. Open it then."

"Deal," he said, grinning. He pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the box, posted it with some caption about surprises and love.

I watched him fiddling with his phone, and my eyes stung. I remembered him chasing me from high school into college, standing up to his own family just to marry me. I remembered Margaret handing me a check across a restaurant table, telling me to take the money and disappear. I'd been so sure he was different. So sure our love could survive anything.

Now he'd proven her right. Money really was the only thing that never lied.

Dominic set the box carefully on the bookshelf, then went into the kitchen. He made my favorite - salmon with lemon butter sauce, cream pasta, Caesar salad. I stood in the doorway and watched him tie on an apron, watched him move around the stove like he actually knew what he was doing. He'd grown up with staff who did everything for him. He learned to cook for me, one dish at a time, after we got married.

At the table, he reached over and touched my cheek. "You've lost weight," he said. "Stop staying up so late."

"Do you still love me?" I asked.

He didn't hesitate. He put down his fork, pulled me into his arms. "You're the most important person in my life," he said. "You know that."

I'd known for a month already. The unfamiliar perfume on his jackets. The long dark hair stuck to his collar that wasn't mine. Small things that added up to an answer I didn't want.

His phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen. He picked up his phone as soon as he saw it was a name starting with B.

His face changed for half a second. "Work thing," he said. "I should take this."

"Stay with me," I said quietly.

He looked at the phone, then flipped it face-down. "It can wait."

Later, after he showered, he came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, his intentions clear.

"I'm tired tonight," I said, stepping out of his hold.

He didn't push. He kissed my forehead. "I'll go do some paperwork in the study. Get some rest."

I woke up sometime after midnight to the sound of a door clicking shut. The other side of the bed was empty. The study light was off.

I grabbed a jacket and walked to the window. Down in the garden, I saw him. A woman stood in front of him, stepping closer.

"You shouldn't be here," I heard him say, voice low. "She can't find out."

She didn't say anything. She simply opened her coat to reveal a halter dress underneath, cut low and clinging to every curve. Then she threw herself into his arms, pressing against him.

"You want me, I can feel it," she said, placing his hand on her breast, moaning.

"You slut, not even wearing any panties," he growled, roughly ripping her skirt open. He lifted her up and sank his teeth into her neck and breasts, wild and impatient.

He carried her toward the car parked in the driveway and tossed her into the back seat. The door shut. The car began to rock.

I stood at the window and let the tears fall without a sound.

I remembered our wedding night, his hand around mine, promising he'd never let me down. I'd made a promise too - that as long as he never betrayed me, I would never leave.

I turned from the window and went to the closet. I pulled out my things, one item at a time, folding them into a suitcase. I wrapped my grandmother's old pocket watch carefully and tucked it into the bottom of the case. There weren't many people in this world I couldn't bear to lose. She was one of them.

When I finished packing, I walked to the calendar on the wall and drew a thick X through the 24th.

Twenty-nine days left.

I must have dozed off, because the next thing I heard was Dominic's voice. He was standing by the bed, my phone in his hand, the screen lit up with a message from an unknown number. Your request has been confirmed. Please reply before [date] if you wish to cancel.

His face was tight. "What the hell is this?"