* és a Calle pine floordation


    <b>93 </b>A <b>Call’s </b>Bitter Revtion


    I nodded, not trusting myself to speak further. Moving to the refrigerator, I began gathering Ingredients for Cora’s dinner, needing the distraction of a routine task.


    The drive home was filled with Cora’s animated chatter about her day. These moments <b>were </b>precious–when she was just my daughter, not torn between loyalties.


    “No,” I replied. “Your grandmother wants me to bring dinner to your office. I thought I should check if that works for you.”


    The truth was that the vi documents, Damien’s gesture that had seemed so generous yesterday, now felt like the final settlement it truly was. He was giving me property because he was giving me up. Making space in his life for Vivienne by clearing


    me out of it.


    Eleanor beamed. “Wonderful idea.”


    “Mommy, can we have spaghetti?” Cora asked, looking up from her homework.


    The pasta water boiled over suddenly, hissing as it hit the stovetop. I rushed to turn down the heat, wiping up the mess with a dishcloth.


    “I’m sorry, Eleanor,” I said. “Damien already has dinner ns.”


    The vi wasn’t a peace offering. It was a parting gift.


    “You work too hard,” Eleanor patted my hand. “It’s wonderful to have you here. In fact, I was wondering if you might do me a small favor.”


    I hugged her tightly, breathing in her sweet, familiar scént. “Hi, sweetheart. How was


    school?”


    The vi documents sat on my dresser, a reminder of Damien’s unexpected generosity. After our conversationst night, I had reluctantly epted the property. Not because I wanted his charity, but because the fight wasn’t worth having. The coastal vi would be the final thread connecting us before ourplete separation.


    I ended the call and stood motionless in the hallway. The conversation wasn’t surprising–I knew about Vivienne, had known for years. And yet, hearing her voice in his office, sofortable, so intimate… It drove home the reality of our situation in a


    12:19


    93 ACall’s Gater Revtion


    way legal documents couldn’t.


    <b>I </b>nced at Cora, who was focused on her homework. Eleanor was watching me expectantly. Refusing outright would create tension I didn’t have the energy to navigate.


    <b>“</b><b>Yes</b><b>. </b>Goodbye, Damien.”


    The school parking lot buzzed with activity when I arrived. Parents chatted in small groups while children poured out of the building. I spotted Cora immediately, her dark hair bouncing as she ran toward me.


    And maybe that was exactly what I needed to move forward.


    “Is that all?” he asked.


    “ra, dear,” Eleanor said, approaching me as Cora settled at the table with her homework. “What a lovely surprise to see you home this afternoon.”


    “I understand,” I said, working to keep my voice neutral. “I’ll let Eleanor know.”


    “No need,” Damien said to me, his voice even. “I already have dinner ns.”


    ra’s POV


    “Damien, darling, I’ve brought dinner from that new French ce you mentioned.”


    The words weren’t cruel, just matter–of–fact. But theynded like a p nheless.


    “That sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to see it.”


    “Let me call and check with him first,” I suggested, pulling out my phone.


    Morning sunlight streamed through the windows as I dressed for the day. Damien had left early for some business meeting, sparing me another tense breakfast with Eleanor’s hopeful nces between us.


    As I stirred the sauce, I realized a strange sense of calm had reced the initial sting. There was rity in this moment–hearing Vivienne’s voice, Damien’s easy dismissal of Eleanor’s dinner ns. The universe was confirming what I already knew: my marriage was over. Had been over long before I’d asked for a divorce.


    As I chopped vegetables for the sauce, my thoughts drifted back to the call. Vivienne bringing Damien dinner wasn’t new or shocking. They’d been together through most


    12:19


    BSA Cal Ritmi Ropotm


    of my marriage to him. But today, it felt different. More final


    Taking a deep breath, I returned to the kitchen where Eleanor was helping Cora with her spelling worksheet.


    “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” I said carefully. “I have meetingster<b>, </b>and Damien probably has his own dinner ns.”


    <b>I </b>stepped into the hallway for privacy and dialed Damien’s number. The line rang several times before he answered.


    I smiled politely. “I wanted to spend some time with Cora before my evening meetings.


    “Just fine,” I lied. “Just a little distracted.”


    “We made y animals in art ss!” Cora pulled back, eyes bright with excitement. “Miss Bet said mine was very creative<b>.” </b>


    “ra.” His voice was crisp, professional. “Is something wrong?”


    While Cora recounted her day again for her great–grandmother, I moved to the kitchen to prepare a light snack. The normalcy of the moment felt deceptive–like a beautiful painting with hairline cracks running through the canvas.


    Eleanor’s face fell slightly. “Oh, what a shame. Well, perhaps another time.”


    Something in her tone made me wary. “What kind of favor?”


    “Damien mentioned he’d be workingte tonight. I’ve had Mrs. Chen prepare his favorite pot roast.” She gestured to a package on the counter. “Would you mind delivering it to him? He forgets to eat when he’s busy.”


    My stomach tightened. This was exactly the kind of meddling Eleanor specialized in— creating situations where Damien and I would be forced together.


    “Mommy!” she called,unching herself into my arms.


    “There are my two favorite girls!” She set down her shears and embraced Cora. “And how was school today, darling?”


    Eleanor waved dismissively. “Nonsense! You know how he gets wrapped up in work. A quick visit won’t disrupt your schedule.”


    When we arrived at the Thorne estate, Eleanor was in the kitchen arranging flowers.


    12:19


    03 A CAP’s Biter Revtion


    Her face lit up when she saw us.


    My grip tightened on the phone. Of course Vivienne would be there. Of course she would have already thought to bring him dinner.


    “Of course, sweetie.” I forced a smile, grateful for the shift in conversation.


    “Everything alright, dear?” Eleanor asked, concern in her voice.


    I checked my watch. Just enough time to pick up Cora from school before heading to my afternoon meetings at YodaVision. Julian had scheduled a crucial development review for our new AI interface, but family came first.


    There was a brief silence before I heard a woman’s voice in the background. Vivienne’s


    voice.


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