After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets

Two days later, Deliah was sitting on the sofa, reading a legal blog about asset division on her tablet. She heard the front door open and quickly swiped the screen to a recipe for roast chicken.

Jere came home early. He looked pleased with himself, the tension from the last few days seemingly evaporated. He walked into the living room and placed a long, velvet jewelry box on the coffee table.

"For the anniversary I missed," he said, loosening his tie.

Deliah stared at the box. It was black velvet, long and slender. It looked like a coffin for her dignity.

"Open it," he urged, sitting next to her.

She reached out and flipped the lid. Inside lay a stunning diamond tennis bracelet. It was platinum, heavy and substantial, encrusted with rare pink diamonds that caught the light and shattered it into a thousand sparkles.

Jere watched her face, expecting gratitude, expecting the awe that usually worked.

Deliah felt nothing. It was just a rock. A cold, hard rock paid for with guilt. "It's beautiful," she said flatly.

Jere took it out of the box. "Let me put it on you."

He took her wrist-the one that wasn't bandaged-and clasped the bracelet. It felt heavy and cold against her skin.

He kissed her hand. "I know I've been busy. This is to say thank you for being patient. For understanding the pressure I'm under."

Deliah realized he was buying her patience. He was paying a retainer fee for her silence.

She looked at the bracelet, then at him. "Did you pick this out yourself?"

Jere hesitated. It was a micro-second, a tiny glitch in his programming. "Of course."

Deliah reached for the velvet box, her fingers brushing against the silk lining of the bag it had come in. As she pulled the box closer, something white fluttered out from the side pocket of the shopping bag.

It was a receipt.

Jere stiffened, his hand twitching as if to snatch it back, but he stopped himself, realizing that reaction would look worse. He forced a relaxed smile, but his eyes were alert.

Deliah picked it up, feigning playfulness. "Let me see the damage. I bet this cost a fortune."

She scanned it quickly. Her blood froze in her veins.

Item: Platinum Pink Diamond Tennis Bracelet. Quantity: 2.

Two. He had bought two identical bracelets.

"Why two?" Deliah asked, her voice dangerously calm. She held the receipt up, her eyes locking onto his.

Jere didn't miss a beat. He didn't stutter. "One for my mother," he said smoothly. "Her birthday is coming up next month. You know how she loves diamonds. I thought since I was there..."

It was a plausible lie. Victoria Bolton was a known jewelry hoarder. It made perfect sense.

Deliah wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to believe him. But her gut was screaming. It was a physical sensation, a twisting in her intestines that told her he was lying to her face.

She put the receipt back on the table. "That's generous of you. Your mother will love it."

Jere relaxed visibly. His shoulders dropped an inch. He thought he had dodged the bullet. He thought she was stupid.

"We should celebrate properly," he said, putting the receipt back in his pocket. "Dinner tomorrow? Per Se?"

"Per Se sounds perfect," Deliah agreed.

She touched the bracelet on her wrist. It glittered mockingly under the chandelier. She wasn't going to dinner to celebrate. She was going to wait for the lawyer to finish the paperwork, and she was going to serve him at the table.

Jere went into his study to take a call. Deliah sat alone, staring at the pink diamonds. She needed to find out who the second bracelet really went to. Because she knew, with absolute certainty, that Victoria Bolton wasn't getting anything pink. Victoria hated pink.