Chapter 10

“No angle,” I thought bitterly, fighting back shameful tears. No angle at all, except perhaps an attempted cover-up. For one fleeting, foolish instant, I’d actually believed Noah was trying. That maybe, just maybe, he wanted to rekindle the spark between us. That the fiery passion in his eyes when he kissed me had been real.

But of course, it wasn’t. I was a fool. It was a desperate ploy to sweep our marital problems under the rug, to maintain appearances. Politics and posturing, as always. And I’d fallen for it, dangling on gossamer threads of hope like a lovesick moron.

“I see,” I muttered, the words like shards of glass. I shifted my gaze, unable to look at him. “Well, thank you for the dress and the evening, Noah. I appreciate the convincing act, even if it was for show.”

From my peripheral vision, I saw him flinch.

“Tell me one thing,” I asked, pinning him with a level stare. “That promise you made on our wedding night—to always love me—was that a lie, too? Or were you just a better actor back then?”

His expression went blank. For a long moment, the car was silent—not even the engine made a sound. I was grateful for the partition; the driver would have been holding his breath, too.

Then, Noah swallowed. “Hannah…” His voice was low, scratchy, almost pained.

But I didn’t let him finish. “Never mind,” I said, waving a hand dismissively as I looked out the window. “I don’t want to know.”

We spent the rest of the drive in uneasy silence. Finally, the wrought-iron gates of the mansion came into view. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the rusty red cupolas and the thick green ivy. Goddess, when we got divorced, I would miss this house.

The car stopped, and I reached for the door handle. “I think you should stay in your office tonight,” I stated flatly, stepping out onto the driveway. “I want the house to myself.”

Noah didn’t respond. Only after he’d brusquely ordered the driver to leave did I turn, heading for the front door. But I stopped when I heard him call, “Hannah.”

I froze, my hands clenching. My eyes closed; for a moment, I almost imagined him jumping out, taking me in his arms, kissing me, telling me he always loved me, that his promise was true.

But he didn’t.

I turned slowly, opening my eyes. He was holding my clutch out the window, his expression stony. “You forgot this.”