No Longer Yours, Billionaire Ex-Husband

NORA'S POV

Sam walked out without looking back, leaving behind the thick silence of our bedroom. I sat frozen for a moment, the words I had just said ringing in my ears.

I had expected some form of reaction from Sam. Anything but coldness. Why wouldn't he fight for us?

In the middle of the night, I went downstairs to find him sleeping on the couch. I sighed and went back up with a broken heart.

Divorce. The word still hung in the air, heavy and impossible to take back. I sat down at the computer and sent an email to my lawyer to get the papers ready. I had toyed with the idea for months but now, it was reality.

I stood up and went to the window, staring out into the night. The cold air from the river about a mile away wafted into the room bringing with it the scent of water and the shouts of seamen. I looked at the garden below that extended to the dock that we never used. I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I’d done it. There was no undoing it now. The marriage was over.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. My lawyer’s name flashed across the screen.

“Ms. Bennett, the papers are ready. Should I send them to Mr. Bennett's office?” her voice was crisp, businesslike.

“Yes, that’s fine,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Send them today.”

I hung up and sighed, staring at the ceiling. There it was—formal, final. A few signatures on a stack of papers, and our marriage would be nothing but a legal transaction.

I went downstairs and found that Sam was gone. He hadn't even bothered to say good morning. At least before we spoke formally. Today, he left without a word. I swallowed.

No more pretending. He would get the papers today, and then... what? Would he fight it? Would he even care?

I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.

I moved around the bedroom, slowly packing my things into boxes. Each item I touched seemed to hold a memory of the life we used to share. I tossed my clothes into my suitcase, the movements mechanical, my thoughts far away.

I opened a drawer and found the small, wooden box that held my painting tools. My hands paused as I ran my fingers over the old brushes and inks.

I’m not a failure, I reminded myself. I still had my talent, my passion. Once I was out of this house, away from Sam and all the weight that came with him, I could finally focus on myself again. I moved to the basement and found some of my paintings that were wrapped and collecting dust down there.

Just as I was sealing the last box of my paintings, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Jacob standing there, his usual smug expression plastered on his face.

“So, it's true,” he sneered. “You and Sam are actually getting a divorce.”

I crossed my arms, refusing to give him the reaction he was looking for. “What do you want, Jacob?”

He leaned against the doorframe, that infuriating smirk never leaving his face. “I just came to see how long it would take for you to finally ruin everything. Sam’s better off without you. I mean, let’s be real—everyone knew you couldn’t keep him.”

“I know you are here to gloat…” I started.

He cut me off rudely, “oh but of course Eleanora,” he said and laughed sarcastically.

I felt a spark of anger flare in my chest. Jacob had always been like this, always trying to make me feel small, but not today.

“You know what, Jacob?” I stepped closer, my voice steady. “You’re right. Sam probably is better off without me. And you know what? So am I. I don’t need him. I don’t need any of you.”

Jacob blinked, taken aback by my words. He wasn’t used to me fighting back, but I was done playing the victim.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” I said, stepping back to shut the door, “I have a new life to get started on. And trust me, it’s going to be better than anything you could imagine.”

I slammed the door in his face before he could respond, my heart racing. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I had taken back some control. I wasn’t going to let people like Jacob make me feel worthless anymore. I was done.

I was inside feeling triumphant and shaky when my phone rang. It was my lawyer. I took a deep breath and braced myself for impact. I had a glimmer of hope that maybe Sam would contest the divorce. Maybe drag it out.

I was wrong. Sam had signed the papers. My heart broke.

I decided to hasten my moving process and worked tirelessly packing my life into boxes. Towards evening, exhausted, I sat down to unwind with a bottle of red wine.

While scrolling through my phone, I saw a new post from Isabella on Pictory. I froze, staring at the picture of her and Sam at some fancy event, all smiles and champagne. They were sitting together, smiling at the camera, her hand around his, leaning into him. When had they taken this photo?!

The caption made my heart sink:

“New chapter ahead! So excited for what’s next! #togetheragain #partnership #grateful”

The comments were full of congratulations. People were cheering them on, talking like she was finally going to get what she always wanted. Some speculated that Sam had proposed to her. Like she deserved to be with Sam all along. They didn’t know the truth, how Sam and I had been falling apart for months. They just saw her—Isabella, the confident, successful one—and me? I was the one being forgotten.

I shivered and stood up, walking to the window. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still gray, reflecting my mood. Without thinking, I pulled off my wedding ring and stared at it. This little band had once meant everything to me. Now, it was just a reminder of everything I had lost.

I opened the window and, with a flick of my wrist, threw the ring out. It landed somewhere in the garden below, disappearing from sight. I didn’t care where it went. I just needed it gone.

I was finishing the last of the packing when I heard another knock. I opened the door to see Genevieve, her face soft with concern. She stepped in and pulled me into a hug before I could say anything.

She looked around the room, her eyes landing on the packed boxes. “So...where are you going? After the divorce, I mean.”