Chapter 2

I had made my new home in a quaint southern town, taking up residence in a cozy little courtyard.

I was sprawled on a wicker chair, soaking up the rare shade on a balmy summer afternoon.

The town was a slice of heaven, picture-perfect all year round. I was toying with the idea of opening a flower shop.

I never used to care for the frilly stuff like flowers, but three years as Mrs. Harris had somehow coaxed out a fondness for their charm.

James tracked me down on the third evening. His usually spot-on style was off, a button dangled by a thread on his cuff.

He caught my glance and fixed his eyes on the loose button, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his stern features.

"Why won't you come home?" he demanded icily.

I stared back, surprised. "Mr. Harris, considering I'm about to be your ex, I don't see why I should be at your place."

Oddly enough, it was the first time I ever saw a spark of anger in James's eyes.

"Is our marriage, our family, just a game to you?"

I could not hide my annoyance at his attitude, my face a mask of impatience. "On day one thousand ninety-four, I asked for a divorce, remember? You said yes."

James was a terrible debater, always missing the point.

"Wait, did you say day one thousand ninety-four?"

He looked puzzled.

I knew I had slipped up.

I was scared of the Harris family pinning the blame on me, and I was ready to spill the truth, but I tried to play it off. "Mr. Harris, we can head to the County Clerk's Office whenever you're free."

He scrunched his brows, taking a while before he replied, "It's been tough on everyone with you gone."

I just smirked. "They'll adjust."

James let out a weary sigh. "Mom's blood pressure is up, the doctor is pushing meds, and Chester's grades are tanking. His teacher says he's snoozing in class—"

I cut him off. "Mr. Harris, they're your mom and your kid, not my problem."

He looked taken aback, his good-looking brows knitting tighter. "Emma, we need to talk. If there's been a mix-up, let's clear the air, sooner rather than later."

A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk that was pure James, I shot back, "James, I don't owe you an explanation for every choice I make. Some things, you just wouldn't get, even if I spelled them out for you. I asked, you said yes. We're both getting what we want. Isn't that a win-win?"

His face twisted with emotion, and I had to wonder: After three years as his wife, why was I only then seeing the full range of his expressions?

"And what about Calvin, your flesh and blood? You're just going to abandon him?"

The mention of Calvin sent a pang through me, a reminder of Emma's final, fretful days over the boy she could not bear to leave behind. It was a cruel truth that those closest to us could cut the deepest.

Calvin, all of four or five, piped up in his squeaky, childlike voice, airing his grievances for all to hear.

"Daddy, I don't want that mean lady to be my mom. I want to be Ms. Scott's kid, just like my brother."

He blurted that out with the whole Harris family watching.

Chester shot Emma a challenging look.

James looked like he was about to lay into the kid, but Mandy and Julia cut him off, chiding, "Kids say the darndest things. You can't take it to heart."

However, at that moment, I could not help but think—'Sure, you can brush off a kid's words, but what about the grown-ups who put those words in their mouths?'

Emma kept her silence as she helped Calvin into his jacket and meticulously packed up the presents for the Scotts. With the last bow tied and the final goodbyes said, she joined the servants at the door, waving off the family as they headed to James's ex-wife's place for Chester's birthday bash.

However, as Emma turned to go back inside, I caught a glimpse of the tears she fought back, her eyes a telltale red.