The moment Soren asked the question, he already knew the answer. 

Of course Evangeline wouldn’t give up her title as his wife. Once upon a time, she’d loved him so deeply she’d schemed to marry him. This marriage–her mother had traded her life for it. If Evangeline walked away now, it would be as if her mother’s death meant nothing at all. 

And the Carlisles weren’t fools; they weighed every decision with ruthless calculation. They would never allow Glenn to marry a woman who’d already been someone else’s wife–especially not a woman who’d been married into the Fawkes family. 

If Evangeline had even a shred of sense left, she wouldn’t do something so stupid. 

As he waited for her answer, Soren slipped his hand into his pocket, gripping the ring box he’d been carrying for weeks. His lips pressed into a thin line. “As long as you promise never to see Glenn again, I—” 

” 

“I’m done.” Evangeline cut him off quietly, meeting the certainty and arrogance in his eyes head–on. 

Soren froze. “What did you say?” 

“I’m done being Mrs. Fawkes.” Her voice was calm, almost gentle. “You and I are already divorced.” 

She reached into her bag and pulled out the divorce certificate she’d prepared in advance, holding it out to him. 

For a moment, Soren just stared at the cover, the gold letters embossed on the surface blurring in his vision. He was stunned–speechless. 

Then, something seemed to click in his mind. He let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Really, Evangeline? Trying to fool me with a fake divorce certificate–do you think this is funny?” 

“It’s real,” she said, her tone steady. 

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08:51 

“Impossible.” 

If they were really divorced, how could he not know? Besides, after all these years, their finances were so entangled–divorce would require signed agreements, negotiations, paperwork. She’d handed him divorce. papers before, but he distinctly remembered never signing them. 

Evangeline saw straight through him. “That night, the papers I gave you to sign weren’t the Whitmore contract–they were our divorce agreement. Just as you wanted, I’m leaving with nothing.” 

Soren went utterly still, his gaze locked on hers. 

He searched her eyes for some flicker of emotion, some hint of regret or pain. But her expression was as calm as ever, untroubled, unreadable. 

It seemed impossible that this was real. Evangeline had loved him desperately, so much that she’d refused to let go–even gone so far as to stage a suicide, just to make him notice her. Today was his 

grandmother’s birthday; he’d even allowed her to play hostess at the celebration. Why would she suddenly give it all up? 

And the Whitmore partnership–negotiations with Fawkes Enterprises had just begun. He hadn’t signed the contract the Whitmores sent over. If the papers Evangeline had handed him were divorce documents, then what about the deal with the Whitmores? 

He could see the distrust in his eyes, and Evangeline didn’t argue. She simply set the certificate in his palm. “If there’s nothing else, I think we’re done here.” 

She turned to leave, but had barely taken two steps before Soren, almost involuntarily, caught her by the wrist. 

Evangeline glanced back at him, puzzled. 

He realized what he’d done and hesitated, unsure why he was stopping her. He knew the divorce wasn’t real–couldn’t be real. And yet, something in him refused to let her go. 

That strange, gnawing panic from earlier surged inside him again. He 

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tightened his grip. “Why are you divorcing me?” 

His voice caught unexpectedly. 

Evangeline paused, noticing the faint redness in his eyes. For a moment, she faltered. Then, with a lightness that sounded almost like relief, she replied, “I don’t love you anymore. Divorce is the best thing for both of us.” 

“Liar.” 

He shot back without hesitation. “Is this about Poppy?” 

So he knew all along. 

Evangeline gave a bitter little smile. “It was, at first,” she admitted. 

But that wasn’t the whole story—not anymore. Now it was about the child she’d lost before it ever had a chance at life. About the timid, diminished 

version of herself she’d become within the Fawkes family–a version she’d grown to despise. It was about realizing that, outside the Fawkes estate and away from Soren, her life could still hold hope and possibility. But Soren didn’t let her finish. 

The moment she admitted it was Poppy, he cut in, desperate. “There’s nothing between me and Poppy. I only wanted to make things right for her. I can give her anything she wants–except marriage.” 

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