CHAPTER 10 A LIFE WITHOUT LUCIEN
Seraphina Wren woke to sunlight.
For a moment, she didn't know where she was.
Then she remembered.
The small apartment.
The quiet street outside.
The suitcase beside the wardrobe.
And, most importantly, Lucien was not there.
She expected the familiar ache.
Instead, she felt calm.
Not happiness.
Not yet.
But calm.
She got out of bed and opened the curtains.
The apartment was modest compared with the Armand mansion, but there was something about it that made her breathe easier.
No staff waiting for instructions.
No enormous rooms echoing with silence.
No expectations attached to her last name.
No one watching her.
Just her.
Seraphina made coffee herself.
She burned the toast.
She laughed.
It was the first time she had laughed alone in weeks.
She sat by the window with her cup and watched people hurry down the street.
Nobody knew who she was.
Nobody cared that she had once been Seraphina Armand.
For the first time, anonymity felt like freedom.
Her phone vibrated.
She looked at it.
A message from Lucien.
Good morning. I hope you slept well.
She stared at it.
There was no accusation.
No demand.
No request for her to return.
She typed:
I did.
She hesitated before sending it.
Then she did.
The response came almost immediately.
I'm glad.
Nothing more.
Seraphina placed the phone down.
That small exchange affected her more than she expected.
Lucien was giving her space.
Maybe he was finally beginning to understand.
Or perhaps he simply didn't know what else to do.
Either way, she wouldn't build hope around a single message.
She had done that too many times.
Later that morning, Seraphina visited a small publishing company where an old friend had offered her freelance work.
She walked into the office carrying a folder.
"Seraphina?"
She smiled.
"Hello."
Her friend, Mara, hugged her.
"You actually came."
"I said I would."
"I wasn't sure."
Seraphina looked around the office.
"I need something to do."
Mara smiled.
"Then you've come to the right place."
For the next few hours, Seraphina worked.
Real work.
Not charity events arranged by the Armand Foundation.
Not dinners where she smiled beside Lucien.
Not appearances designed to protect the family image.
She edited manuscripts.
Reviewed proposals.
Made notes.
At one point, she looked at the clock and realized four hours had passed.
She had forgotten to think about Lucien.
That realization stunned her.
She leaned back in her chair.
Maybe this was what she had been missing.
A life that belonged to her.
That evening, she walked home instead of calling a driver.
The city was alive around her.
Street vendors called out.
Children laughed.
Cars moved through traffic.
People argued, hurried, loved, lived.
She felt strangely ordinary.
And she liked it.
When she reached her apartment, she found another message from Lucien.
I won't disturb you tonight. Take care of yourself.
She read it twice.
Then she put her phone away.
She wanted to believe his words meant something.
But words were where their marriage had always begun and ended.
The next day, Seraphina received a call from her bank.
The account Lucien had provided for household expenses had been frozen.
She wasn't surprised.
She had expected it.
For years, Lucien had taken care of every financial detail.
Now she would have to take care of herself.
She sat quietly after the call.
Fear crept in.
Then she breathed through it.
"I can do this."
The words sounded strange.
But they were true.
She opened her laptop.
She calculated her savings.
She contacted Mara about more work.
She reviewed her own accounts.
By evening, she had a plan.
It wasn't luxurious.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was hers.
Meanwhile, across the city, Lucien sat in his office staring at a financial report.
His assistant stood before him.
"Sir, the account connected to Mrs. Armand has been frozen."
Lucien looked up sharply.
"Why?"
"Your mother's office requested it."
His expression darkened.
"Restore it."
"Your mother has already instructed the bank that Mrs. Armand is no longer entitled to access Armand family funds."
Lucien stood.
"Restore it."
"Sir, there's another issue."
"What?"
"Mrs. Armand has opened an independent account."
Lucien froze.
"She did?"
"Yes."
For some reason, that information unsettled him.
Seraphina was separating herself from him.
Not emotionally.
Financially.
Practically.
Completely.
He picked up his phone.
He wanted to call her.
Then remembered her request.
Please don't call me for now.
So he didn't.
For the first time, restraint felt harder than action.
That evening, Seraphina stood in her small kitchen preparing dinner.
She made pasta.
Nothing elaborate.
Nothing expensive.
She sat alone at her small table and smiled.
There was no crystal chandelier above her.
No silverware arranged by staff.
No empty chair belonging to a husband who might or might not arrive.
There was simply a meal she had made for herself.
She took a bite.
It wasn't perfect.
She laughed again.
Then her phone rang.
Lucien.
She stared at the screen.
She hadn't expected him to call.
She let it ring.
It stopped.
A message appeared.
I wanted to hear your voice.
Seraphina closed her eyes.
That sentence would once have been enough to make her run home.
Now it only made her sad.
She typed a response.
I need this time, Lucien.
His reply came several minutes later.
I understand.
She placed the phone down.
Outside, the city lights shimmered through her window.
Seraphina looked around her apartment.
It was smaller.
Quieter.
Less impressive.
But she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Peace.
She had spent years believing she needed Lucien to feel secure.
Now she was discovering that security could come from knowing she could survive without him.
And somewhere deep inside, a new thought began to take root.
Maybe leaving wasn't the end of her life.
Maybe it was the beginning of her own.