Chapter Five
Divorce Papers at Dawn
Idid not sleep.
I lay on the sofa in the hotel suite with my eyes open, watching the fire die down to red ash.
Every time I closed my eyes, the screen came back.
Bennett’s open shirt.
Serena’s silk robe.
Her laugh.
His voice.
She trusts me.
Those three words were worse than the kiss.
Worse than the gasps from the ballroom.
Worse than the cameras in the lobby.
I had trusted him.
That was the ugly part. Not that he fooled the world. Bennett had always been good at that. He could stand in front of investors and turn fear into hunger. He could walk into a room full of powerful men and make them feel lucky to breathe his air.
But he had fooled me too.
Me.
The woman who knew the old scars on his hands. The woman who knew he hated sleeping with the window open. The woman who knew he kept his first failed business plan in a locked drawer because he said failure had teeth and he liked to remember what it felt like.
I had known everything.
And somehow, I had known nothing.
My phone lay face down on the table.
I had turned the volume off, but it kept lighting up. Again and again. A silent storm.
Bennett.
My mother.
Unknown numbers.
Audrey Finch.
Bennett.
Serena.
Bennett.
I did not touch it.
Across the suite, Theo’s bedroom door opened.
I sat up at once.
He stood there in the sweatpants Caleb’s assistant had sent, the sleeves of his hoodie too long over his hands. His hair was messy. His face looked younger in the morning light.
Too young.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He rubbed one eye. “Did you sleep?”
“A little.”
He looked at me like he knew I was lying.
I tried to smile. “Did you?”
“No.”
My smile disappeared.
He walked to the sofa and sat beside me, not close enough to touch at first. Then, after a few seconds, he leaned into my side.
I put my arm around him.
He let me.
That almost broke me again.
“Are we going home today?” he asked.
I looked toward the windows. Seattle was gray and wet beyond the glass. The city looked the same as it had yesterday. That felt rude.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Which home?”
I had no answer.
The penthouse was full of Bennett.
The estate was full of Bennett.
The beach house was in both our names, but his security team ran it.
Every place I had called home had been built around a man who had just made me homeless in my own life.
“I’m meeting a lawyer this morning,” I said.
Theo went stiff.
“A divorce lawyer?”
I looked at him. “Yes.”
He pulled away.
I let him.
He stood and walked to the window.
“Theo.”
“So it’s real,” he said.
I rose slowly. “What happened last night was real.”
“No, I mean…” He turned back to me. “You’re really leaving him.”
I swallowed. “I don’t know what the final ending looks like yet.”
“But you’re seeing a divorce lawyer.”
“Yes.”
He nodded fast, too fast. “Good.”
But his voice cracked on the word.
I moved toward him.
He stepped back.
“Don’t,” he said.
I stopped.
His hands curled into fists at his sides. “I want to hate him. I do hate him. But if you divorce him, then everything is real forever.”
I pressed one hand to my chest.
“I know.”
“Why did he do it?” Theo asked. “Was it because we were boring? Was it because you and Dad got old?”
The question hit me so hard I almost sat down.
“No,” I said sharply. “No. Look at me.”
He did not.
“Theo, look at me.”
He lifted his eyes.
“Your father did not cheat because of you. He did not cheat because our family was boring. He did not cheat because I got older or because marriage got quiet or because life was normal. He cheated because he made a selfish choice.”
Theo’s chin shook.
“But he loves us.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
I had asked myself the same question all night.
How could love and betrayal live in the same body?
How could the same man kiss my forehead before a party and kiss Serena in a hotel room three weeks before it?
How could he love our son and still risk his world?
“I don’t know,” I said. “But it is not your fault. It is not mine either.”
Theo wiped his face with his sleeve.
I stepped closer. This time he did not move away.
“You can love your father and be angry with him,” I said. “Both can be true.”
“I don’t want both.”
“I know.”
“I want to pick one and be done.”
“Me too.”
He let out a broken laugh.
It hurt to hear.
A knock came at the suite door.
Theo stiffened.
I touched his arm. “It’s okay.”
“Is it him?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because your father doesn’t knock like that.”
The knock came again. Quiet. Patient.
Caleb.
I opened the door.
He stood in the hall holding a cardboard tray with coffee, hot chocolate, and a brown paper bag.
His coat was damp from rain. His hair was slightly wet. He looked like he had already been awake for hours.
“Breakfast,” he said.
I stepped back. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
Theo came into the living room but stayed near the window.
Caleb looked at him. “Hot chocolate. Extra whipped cream. I was told that fixes nothing but helps anyway.”
Theo stared at him for a second, then took the cup.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Caleb set the bag on the table. “Bagels, fruit, eggs, and something with cinnamon that may be dessert pretending to be breakfast.”
Theo opened the bag.
“Mom likes cinnamon.”
Caleb glanced at me. “I remember.”
The room went quiet.
Theo looked between us.
I felt heat rise to my face, and I hated it.
Not because I had done anything wrong.
Because everything now looked like something.
Every glance. Every kindness. Every man near me.
That was another thing Bennett’s betrayal had stolen. The right to receive kindness without it becoming gossip.
My phone lit up again.
Theo saw it.
“Dad?”
I looked.
“No. Audrey.”
“The lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“Answer.”
I hesitated.
Theo’s face hardened.
“I’m not a little kid,” he said. “I know what divorce is.”
“That does not mean I want you carrying it.”
“I’m already carrying it.”
I had no reply to that.
I answered the call.
“Madeleine,” Audrey said. “Good morning.”
There was nothing good about it, but I said, “Good morning.”
“My car is downstairs. Private entrance. The driver’s name is Louis. He will take you to my satellite office.”
“Not your main office?”
“No. Press is already watching it.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course they were.
“Do you want me to bring Theo?”
“That is up to you. I can have my assistant sit with him in a private room. Or he can remain with someone you trust.”
My eyes moved to Caleb.
He was not looking at me. He was showing Theo how to open the hot chocolate lid without spilling.
Someone I trusted.
Did I trust him?
Yes.
That was the problem.
“I’ll bring him,” I said.
Theo looked relieved.
Caleb looked at me then, but said nothing.
“Good,” Audrey said. “And Madeleine?”
“Yes?”
“Have you seen Bennett’s statement?”
My body went cold.
“No.”
“It went live early this morning.”
“What statement?”
Theo stepped closer.
Audrey paused. “A public one. He admits the affair. He says you did not know. He says you were not separated. He tells the press to leave your son alone.”
The room went very still.
Theo whispered, “Dad said that?”
I put Audrey on speaker before I could change my mind.
Audrey continued, “It is better than what most men in his position do. Legally, it helps you. Emotionally, I cannot speak to that.”
Caleb’s jaw tightened.
Theo reached for his phone, then remembered I had turned it off.
“Can I see it?” he asked.
I looked at him.
“Please,” he said.
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to lock every screen in the city and keep him inside a room where fathers did not fail and mothers did not break and best friends did not become strangers.
But that room did not exist.
I picked up my phone and opened the video Audrey sent.
Bennett appeared on the screen.
He looked awful.
Good.
Then I hated myself for thinking it.
His face was pale. His eyes were red. His bow tie was gone. His shirt was open at the throat. He looked straight into the camera, and for once, he did not look like a king.
He looked like a man at the edge of a grave he had dug himself.
“My name is Bennett Rourke,” he said.
Theo moved beside me.
His shoulder touched mine.
I kept the phone steady.
Bennett’s voice filled the room.
“I betrayed my wife.”
Theo sucked in a breath.
I did not move.
“I betrayed Madeleine Hart. She did not know. She did not approve. We were not separated. We were not living separate lives. Any suggestion that my wife was part of a false marriage tonight is a lie.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Madeleine Hart.
He said it.
He said my name.
Not Rourke.
Hart.
Beside me, Theo whispered, “He looks bad.”
Caleb said nothing.
Audrey stayed silent on the call.
On the screen, Bennett looked down for one second, then back up.
“My son was present. He is a minor. I am asking the press and the public to leave him out of this. If you want to blame someone, blame me.”
Theo’s face changed.
The anger did not leave.
But something moved under it.
Pain, maybe.
Or love trying not to die.
Bennett kept speaking.
“Serena Mallory is not the victim of my marriage. My wife did not fail me. My wife did not push me away. My wife did not deserve what I did. I made the choice. I carry the blame.”
I stopped the video.
I could not hear more.
Not yet.
Theo looked at me. “Why did you stop?”
“Because I need air.”
He took the phone gently and pressed play again.
I let him.
Bennett’s voice continued, lower now.
“I do not ask for forgiveness. I have not earned it. I do not ask for privacy for myself. I do not deserve it. I ask only that Madeleine and Theo be given space, dignity, and peace.”
Theo’s eyes filled again.
I put my hand on his back.
This time, he did not pull away.
Then Bennett said my name.
Not to the world.
To me.