I hung up.
The next morning, I went to the penthouse.
I had been avoiding it, but I couldn’t anymore. It was time to stop hiding.
I walked through the empty rooms, my footsteps echoing on the hardwood. I stood at the window looking down at Central Park and thought about Daniel, about the life he wanted to give me, about the life I had lived instead.
Small. Quiet. Grateful for scraps.
I wasn’t that woman anymore.
I pulled out my phone and called Mr. Brennan.
“I want to sell the house in White Plains. The one Robert took.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. And I want the proceeds donated to Saint Vincent’s Hospital. The nursing scholarship fund.”
“Done. Anything else?”
“Yes. I need you to prepare divorce papers for Robert.”
A pause.
“Mrs. Hayes, you can’t file for—”
“Not for me. For him. I want everything ready. Division of property. Terms if needed. The works. When he’s ready to choose, I want to make it easy.”
