Leaning her forehead against the cold steering wheel, she let go. The sobs came, silent and wracking, shaking her entire body until she thought she might come apart.
It was over. It had never even begun. The marriage, the hope, the love-it was all a one-woman show. And the curtain had just come crashing down.
Chapter 2 The Divorce Papers
The house was cold. It was always cold. Aurora dripped rainwater onto the polished marble of the foyer, the small puddle a stark imperfection in the sterile, museum-like space. She had lived in the Blackwood manor for three years, but it had never been a home. It was a collection of expensive objects and empty rooms. Not a single photograph of them together graced any wall.
A bitter, self-mocking smile touched her lips. Of course not. You don’t frame a business contract.
The front door opened behind her. She didn’t need to turn. The air grew colder, heavier. Damian Blackwood stepped inside, shrugging off his tailored coat with precise, economical movements. He didn’t ask why she’d left. He didn’t comment on the fact that she was soaked to the bone.
