The conservatory went deathly quiet.
Matriarch Farley slowly set down her pruning shears and turned to face me, a flicker of puzzlement crossing her features.
"Why? What has Sylvester done wrong?"
"Nothing."
I told her the truth.
"It just doesn't feel right. Rather than torturing each other, it's better to end things early."
Matriarch Farley studied me for a long time. Something moved behind her eyes that I couldn't read.
"You're certain you've thought this through?" she said at last.
"I have."
"Very well. Since you've—"
The conservatory door flew open before she could finish.
"Rose."
Sylvester stood in the doorway, his face white as paper.
"You really want a divorce?"
I hadn't expected him to be here.
I turned and saw him silhouetted against the light. He was still wearing yesterday's shirt, rumpled and creased, nothing like the polished figure he usually cut. His eyes were threaded with red veins. He clearly hadn't slept.
"Yes. I've made up my mind."
I turned back to face Matriarch Farley.
Sylvester walked into the conservatory and stopped in front of me, his voice pressed low.
"Why? Where did I fall short?"
"Or was there someone in that flock of nobodies last night who suits you better than I do?"
The corner of my mouth twitched. I looked away from him.
"It has nothing to do with them. This is my problem. We were wrong from the start. The sooner we separate, the better it is for both of us."
The veins on the back of his hand stood out against the bone.
"Wrong?"
"The engagement was arranged by your grandmother and my grandmother. You agreed to the wedding. And now you're saying it was wrong?"
"I changed my mind. Is that not allowed?"
I was getting irritated.
"Sylvester, you can't force something that isn't there. A man with your credentials doesn't need to waste his time on me. Word gets out, it won't do your reputation any favors either."
Sylvester stared at me, unblinking. The rims of his eyes slowly turned red.
Then he spun around and strode toward the display cabinet in the corner of the conservatory.
An antique pistol sat on one of the shelves, a Farley family heirloom passed down through generations.
He snatched it up so fast that even the bodyguard beside him didn't have time to react.
He raised the gun. The cold metal barrel pressed against his own temple.
"If you walk out that door today, or say the word 'divorce' one more time—"
He looked me straight in the eyes. His hand was steady, but his voice shook.
"I'll pull the trigger."
Matriarch Farley gasped. "Sylvester! Have you lost your mind?"
I smiled.
He'd pulled this exact stunt in my last life.
Back then, I'd panicked. I caved immediately, promised I'd never bring up divorce again.
And what happened?
He turned around and went straight to Lucy Stephens.
This time, I wasn't falling for it.
Everyone in the conservatory was frozen in shock.
Matriarch Farley shot to her feet. "Sylvester! Put that gun down!"
I stood rooted to the spot too.
In my last life, he'd kept himself pure for Lucy, even walked away from the board of directors for her. It had never occurred to me that he would use something like this to corner me.
Where had things gone off track?
Was it because I hadn't clung to him the way I did before, so his pride was wounded?
Or was this simply what happened when the young master of the Farley family got rejected and couldn't stomach the humiliation?
Matriarch Farley was frantic. She shot me a look, eyes wide with urgency.
"Rose! Talk some sense into him!"
I couldn't move.
I didn't want to walk down that same road again.
The conservatory was so quiet it was suffocating. The only sound was the low, steady hum of the greenhouse ventilation system.
Sylvester's gaze locked onto me, unrelenting, waiting for my answer.
I stared at the barrel pressed against his temple, and for the first time, I hesitated.
