The Five Year Wager for an Ordinary Wife

The day I went to the New York City courthouse to collect my final divorce decree, I shed the drab sweatsuit I’d lived in for five years. In its place, I wore Chanel and a full face of flawless makeup.

When he saw me, the impatience on Nolan Vaughn’s face dissolved into shock. He was silent for a long, stunned moment. "You know," he mused with a bitter chuckle, "if you'd put this much effort in before, maybe we wouldn't be here today."

I said nothing, simply striding toward the parking lot. Decree in hand, Nolan stared after me, making no move to leave.

"If you can't make rent, you can always call me. For old times' sake, I won't let you end up on the street."

A small smile touched my lips, but I didn't reply. I knew that day would never come.

Because in half an hour, I was heading to City Hall. To marry my childhood best friend, the man who had been in love with me for the last ten years.

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1

Stepping out of the courthouse, Nolan double-clicked his key fob. A Porsche parked by the curb chirped in response. A girl in a bright pink coat, seeing the signal, ran over excitedly.

"Nolan, is it done?"

A doting smile spread across Nolan’s face as he nodded. Skylar Jones took the divorce papers from his hand, her grin stretching from ear to ear.

"Congratulations, you're finally free! Let's get Japanese tonight to celebrate!"

Noticing I hadn't moved from the courthouse steps, Nolan glanced over his shoulder. "No ride? Need a lift?"

His tone was a detached, condescending drawl, laced with the lightness of relief. He wrapped an arm around Skylar’s slim waist, his gaze narrowing as he scrutinized me. "Don't make this awkward. Just because we're divorced doesn't mean we can't be civil. Skylar isn't petty; she wouldn't mind."

Skylar clung to his arm, her look a clear declaration of ownership. "That's right, Juliet. You don't have a car now, so you might as well let Nolan give you a ride."

Her tone dripped with condescending charity. In that moment, Skylar was gloating. For a homewrecker, seeing the ex-wife walk away with nothing was the ultimate victory, and she was going to savor it.

I shook my head, my expression impassive. "No, thank you. I have plans."

My phone buzzed twice. A text from my childhood friend, Caleb Blackwood: "Five minutes out."

I tapped back, "Okay."

Skylar’s mocking laughter floated down from the steps. "Juliet, are you just going to stand here refusing to leave? You can't possibly be waiting for Nolan to change his mind, can you? I'm the one he loves. We're divorced. You need to let go."

Me, unwilling to leave? She had to be joking.

"Don't forget, I was the one who filed," I reminded her, then shot a cool glance at Nolan. "A cheater like him? If he were stranded on Fifth Avenue, I wouldn't give him a second glance. Since you're so fond of him, he's all yours. Enjoy."

Skylar didn’t believe a word. As she brushed past me, she whispered, "Juliet, there's no need to be so defensive. Look at you, all dolled up, and Nolan still divorced you. It just proves that for a loser who can't hold onto a man, a little makeup doesn't change anything. I'm different. I'll be a much better Mrs. Vaughn than you ever were. Thanks for getting out of the way."

I met the provocation in her eyes with a sarcastic smile. "You're right, you are different. There aren't many women in New York who've mastered the art of sleeping their way to the top quite like you."

The color drained from Skylar's face, her eyes instantly welling with tears. "Nolan, did you hear her? I was just trying to be nice, offering her a ride, and she humiliates me like this."

Nolan, who had been smoking nearby, scowled and ground out his cigarette. "Juliet, let me be crystal clear: Skylar is not a homewrecker. Our marriage was broken long before she came along. She's the love of my life."

The same tired, hypocritical excuse. I gave a humorless smile. "Say whatever you want. It doesn't matter anymore." I waved the decree in my hand. "Nolan, you always said I was holding you back. Well, now you're free. So why don't you get lost?"

Skylar put on her most wounded expression, looking as if she might burst into tears. "Juliet, I've always respected you. Even though you and Nolan are divorced, we could still be friends. Why do you have to make things so ugly?"

I scoffed. As the other woman, she knew better than anyone how Nolan and I ended up here, yet she had the audacity to play the innocent victim. I wasn't buying it for a second.

"Skylar, if you ever show your face in front of me again, I promise you, things will get much uglier."

Anger flared in Nolan's eyes. He slammed the car door shut in frustration. "Skylar, let's go. We're done here. If she wants to be difficult, let her. We don't have time for this."

With that, Nolan sneered, wrapped his arm around Skylar, and they sped off. I watched their car disappear, feeling a strange emptiness.

Suddenly, a voice called out from nearby.

"Juliet? Have you been crying?"