sta

s. I hadn't slept. Driving through the waking st

umber I didn't rec

anxiety. "Calista? Barrett's been trying to r

ontact my lawyer," I said, my

were dissecting Barrett's "god-like performance" f

f. The praise wa

. Barrett's grandmother. I hesitated, then answered. She wa

khead Barrett upset you again? He's all muscle and no sense. W

he pain. "Mrs. Sterling," I said, my voice miraculously stead

ended the call. She would

l skyscraper downtown. My lawye

front of me. "Are you sure about this, Calista? Leaving with nothing?

in clear, unequivocal terms, that I volunt

ned my name at the bottom. "My onl

just wanted out of the ni

law office. He wore expensive casual clothes

face. He walked straight toward me. "Fina

d just signed. "Mr. Sterling, this is the divorce ag

e title, his brow furrowing. "What i

' Mr. Sterling," my lawyer explained calmly. "This is a

ed, was now a mask of disbelief. He stared at me, his g

ze without flinching for the first time in years

orary!" he hissed, his voice a low gro

each word a carefully pla

tell. He thought this was a negotiation.

oice softening into the tone he used to placate sponsors

so thick I could taste

ad. "I don't

cia, right? This gives you the cleanest slate possible. You'll be single. Unmarrie

oison, dismantling his entire

ty. In his world, I was a satellite, orbiting his sun. He neve

arted, but the wor

. "The terms are simple. I'm sure Mr. Sterling wi

t of the conference ro

is voice, tight with a rage he could no

the first time in three years, I felt like I was breathing my own air. I had made a