It was true.
Both of us had longed for a child of our own.
Now that child was gone.
Gone forever.
Because he wanted to avenge Shirley Henson.
"Chloe, I'll send her away. This time, I mean it."
His phone buzzed.
He answered it.
His expression froze.
"I'll be right there."
"Where are you going?"
I stared at him, eyes rimmed red. "Shirley. Right?"
He hesitated. "It's not her. The kid has a fever."
"What about MY child?!"
My nails dug deep into the flesh of his palms.
He paused.
Then pried my fingers open, one by one.
"I'll come back."
I pressed both hands against the cramping ache in my abdomen.
I smiled through my tears.
I didn't have a child anymore.
But he did.
Shirley did.
By the time Sheila came to see me, I had already fallen off the bed.
She rushed to help me up. "Ms. Simmons! Let me get the doctor!"
"Don't bother."
I fixed my gaze straight ahead. "Discharge me. Take me home."
I stood in front of the house Nigel and I had shared, a thick coat draped over my shoulders.
A torch in my hand.
"Ms. Simmons, are you sure you want to burn it?"
I tossed the torch onto the pile of kindling. My voice was flat.
"Yes."
Nigel had carried me through that door once.
Those beautiful memories were blinding now.
If I was leaving, I'd burn the past to ash.
"Ms. Simmons, do you want to say goodbye to Mr. Gilbert?"
"No."
The private jet was already waiting on the tarmac.
I handed her the divorce papers. "Just give him these."
The plane lifted off.
The fire still burned below.
I didn't look back.
I was never coming back.
