The Divorced Wife And Her Billionaire

One month later.

Aurora stood on the corner of a busy street on the Upper East Side, directly across from an elite private kindergarten. Her body was fully healed.

She wore oversized black sunglasses and a sharp, tailored khaki trench coat. She stood in the shadow of a building, blending into the crowd like a ghost.

At exactly three o'clock, the school bell rang. A stream of children in pristine, expensive uniforms poured out of the front doors.

She spotted her son, Leo, immediately. He was running with his backpack bouncing against his shoulders, throwing himself directly into a woman's arms.

It was Jessica. She was wearing the latest season's Chanel tweed suit. She laughed and pinched Leo's cheek affectionately.

A second later, Conrad stepped out of a black Maybach parked at the curb. He walked over and naturally wrapped his arm around Jessica's waist.

Conrad bent down and lifted Leo high into the air. The sound of their perfect, happy family laughter drifted across the street and hit Aurora's ears.

A few wealthy mothers standing nearby smiled at Jessica, praising her for raising such a polite boy.

Aurora stood in the shadows. She watched the flawless performance. She waited for the familiar ache in her chest, the tears, the heartbreak.

Nothing came.

Instead, a thick wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. She felt physically sick at the thought of the five years she had wasted on these people.

She didn't step forward. She didn't scream. She simply turned on her heel and walked toward the taxi stand.

Aurora took a cab back to the Manhattan penthouse she used to share with Conrad.

She pressed her thumb against the biometric lock. The heavy door clicked open. The entryway smelled like expensive, unfamiliar floral perfume. Jessica had clearly already moved her things in.

Aurora walked past the foyer, her face completely blank. She went straight into the master bedroom and opened the back of the walk-in closet. She pulled out the scuffed, old suitcase she had brought with her before they got married.

She only packed her old college textbooks, her pre-marriage clothes, and a few basic necessities.

She didn't touch a single Hermes bag. She didn't look at the diamond jewelry Conrad had bought her to apologize for his late nights.

She zipped the suitcase shut. She reached into her leather tote bag and pulled out a thick document. She had a legal aid lawyer draft it weeks ago.

She walked into the living room and placed the Divorce Agreement dead center on the black marble coffee table.

She turned off the overhead lights, leaving only a single, dim floor lamp burning in the corner. She sat down on the sofa and waited.

The clock on the wall slowly ticked to midnight. The biometric lock on the front door finally beeped.

Conrad stumbled inside. He was yanking his tie loose. The heavy stench of whiskey and women's perfume rolled off his clothes.

He slapped the wall switch, flooding the room with harsh light. He flinched when he saw Aurora sitting in the shadows. His eyebrows instantly pulled together in a tight, angry knot.

"Where the hell have you been for the past month?" he snapped, his voice loud and accusatory. "You didn't even show up for Leo's birthday, and now you just appear?"

Aurora didn't explain the ICU. She didn't mention the surgery. She just looked at him with the cold, detached eyes of a stranger.

She lifted her hand and tapped her index finger against the cover of the document on the table. "Sign it."

Conrad narrowed his bloodshot eyes. He squinted at the bold black letters on the cover page: Divorce Agreement.

A harsh, mocking laugh ripped out of his throat. He roughly unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and walked straight past her toward the wet bar.

"Is this your new trick?" he sneered, pouring himself a glass of water. "You want my attention so badly you actually paid a lawyer to print this garbage? Your drama is getting boring, Aurora."

Aurora stood up. She walked up behind him. Her voice was completely flat. "I'm serious, Conrad."

Conrad didn't even turn around. He chugged the water, slammed the glass down, and pushed past her toward the bedroom. "I'm tired. I'll listen to you act crazy tomorrow."

He walked into the bedroom and slammed the door shut.