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Evangeline could hear the hint of vulnerability in his voice. 

It almost made her laugh. 

Was she supposed to be grateful that Soren was so magnanimous as to let her keep the title of Mrs. Fawkes? 

“No, thank you.” Her smile was polite, distant. “Compensation is about giving the other person what they actually need. What she needs most right now is this marriage with you.” 

“I’m willing to step aside for your happiness,” she added, poised to pull her hand from his grasp. 

But Soren’s mood shifted in an instant. 

He grabbed her other hand, veins standing out on his forehead, his jaw clenched tight. 

Frustration pulsed visibly at his temples. 

There was nothing technically wrong with what she’d said. He couldn’t find fault with her words. But for reasons he couldn’t name, anger flared up inside him, hot and inexplicable. 

Finally, he spat the words out, nearly grinding his teeth, “But I never agreed to this divorce.” 

Evangeline wasn’t the least bit surprised. 

She understood that Soren probably hadn’t known about the divorce until recently. His initial shock, his token attempts to keep her around–they proved nothing. 

Even a dog you’ve fed for five years would get attached. 

And she’d been Soren’s wife, in name and routine, for five years. 

Of course he’d want to keep her around. It was only natural. 

But she knew deep down, it wasn’t love. It was habit. 

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Once he and Poppy patched things up, he’d forget all about this habit. 

Her voice was calm, almost gentle, “I’m not here to ask for your permission, Soren. I’m just letting you know.” 

“Today is your grandmother’s birthday party. I won’t bring this up there. But she cares about us so much–I’m sure she already suspects. You can decide when to make the announcement. After all… we did have some feelings for each other. If you need me to cooperate for appearances, I will.” 

“That’s all I have to say. If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” 

She finished with dignity, slipped the divorce papers into his hand, and tried to pull away once more. 

Soren’s head was pounding, but he wouldn’t let go. 

A heavy weight seemed lodged in his chest, making it hard to breathe. 

Then his eyes landed on the diamond ring on her middle finger. The sight of it only stoked his irritation. 

He tossed the divorce papers aside, gaze fixed on her hand, voice sharp and cold. “You make it sound so noble, but in the end, you just want to be with Glenn, don’t you?” 

“Evangeline, do you really think the Carlisles will ever let you through their doors?” 

“That’s not your concern anymore,” she replied evenly. 

She couldn’t be bothered to explain to Soren. 

If he was convinced she was running to Glenn, there was no point in trying to change his mind. 

He’d never trusted her–not before, not now. 

Her tone was steady. She didn’t deny it. 

To him, that was as good as an admission. 

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Soren let out a bitter, incredulous laugh. 

So much for all her righteous speeches–she just wanted to leave him for another man! When had he, Soren Fawkes, ever mattered so little to her? 

The thought only made him angrier. 

When Evangeline tried to pull away again, he grabbed her wrist, yanked the ring from her finger, and–without hesitation–hurled it far into the 

lake. 

She realized what he was doing just a second too late. 

Helpless, she watched as the ring traced a glittering arc through the air and disappeared with a splash. 

Her blood seemed to boil all at once. 

That ring had been her mother’s. 

Without thinking, Evangeline darted forward, vaulting over the lakeside railing. 

Soren was startled by her sudden movement and lunged to grab her arm. “Evangeline, are you out of your mind?” 

She struggled, desperate to break free and dive after the ring. Soren gripped her shoulders, his voice rising to a shout. “You’re willing to risk your life for some diamond ring a lover gave you? Get back-” 

But before he could finish, Evangeline’s hand lashed out. She slapped him hard across the face. 

“Let go of me.” 

For a moment, Soren was stunned. 

He’d been doted on his entire life, revered by everyone in the Fawkes family. 

No one had ever raised a hand to him. 

And the person who finally did was Evangeline–the timid, obedient wife 

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he thought he knew.