Chapter 3

Her pupils contracted sharply. She spun toward the back of the house.

The restaurant manager, Daniel, appeared in the doorway — face drained of color, mouth working soundlessly before he finally got the words out.

"Ms. Marsh... the sauce. All of it. It's ruined."

"We have reservations tonight — what are we supposed to do?"

The triumph on Vivian's face cracked open.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

"Nora, that's company property!"

"Company property?"

I laughed, just barely.

"That recipe was mine. Five years of trials. Hundreds of batches. Ethan himself wouldn't dare call it company property — and yet here you are, claiming it?"

"Besides—"

I let my gaze drift over her suddenly ashen face.

"Weren't you the one who said times have changed? That business runs on capital, management, resources, connections — not on who can stir a pot of sauce?"

"So why the panic?"

Vivian's breath came fast and shallow. She was staring at me with pure, cornered fury.

"Nora. You think destroying the sauce gives you power over us?"

"When Ethan wakes up, he will not let this go."

"Is that so?"

I nodded, almost pleasantly.

"Good. Then when he does, pass along a message for me."

I reached into my bag and set a sealed envelope on the front counter — the letter I had already written.

"I'm done with him."

"This restaurant. This man. This rotten wreck of a relationship. Whoever wants to pick up the pieces is welcome to them."

I had barely gotten home when my phone rang.

The screen showed: Ethan Caldwell.

I answered.

Ethan's voice came through — low, barely controlled, like a man trying to hold a fire inside his chest.

"Nora. Have you lost your mind?"

I leaned back in my seat, voice even.

"Something you needed?"

He clearly hadn't expected that. A beat of silence, and then the anger came harder.

"Something I needed? You took the recipe. You know how many tables we have booked tonight? You just walked out and want to watch every location go dark?"

"Isn't that what you're good at? Management, capital, connections. One less person stirring sauce shouldn't even register. You'll be fine."

A sharp pause on the other end.

Then a cold laugh.

"You're still sulking over the marriage certificate?"

"Nora, when did you get so small?"

I closed my eyes for a moment. The urge to laugh rose and died in the same breath.

Even now, he thought I was sulking.

"Ethan."

I kept my voice quiet.

"You lied to me for eight years. In your mind — that makes me petty?"

"What lie? Everything you ate, wore, used — I provided it. Did I ever let you go without? You had it good with me, Nora. Was that not enough?"

"A marriage certificate is just paper. What matters is that you were by my side. I let everyone call you the boss's wife. Wasn't that enough?"

My hand tightened around the phone, knuckle by knuckle.

Yes. That was Ethan.

He never believed he had done anything wrong.

In his mind, a woman only ever wanted a little face-saving, a little money, a little of whatever affection a man chose to hand down. As for legal standing, genuine respect, honesty — that was her being ungrateful.

"All right. I won't push this further."

"Give the recipe back. Come to the hospital and apologize to Vivian. We'll pretend today never happened."

I almost thought I'd misheard him.

"Apologize to her?"

"Shouldn't you?"

Ethan's voice rose.

"The way you carried on at the restaurant today — destroying every last batch of sauce, humiliating her in front of the whole staff. She's a wreck right now. She hasn't stopped crying."

"Nora, when did you become so cruel?"