Fifteen Years of Love

I met her gaze, my voice as cold as ice. "You should address me as Mrs. Stark."

"Oh, I must have forgotten." Skylar feigned surprise, her hand fluttering to her mouth in a mockery of coyness. "But then again, you're on the brink of divorce. I suppose the title barely applies anymore, doesn't it?"

She was nothing more than an employee at the Stark Group, yet she stood before me with no trace of fear.

She knew my status was hanging by a thread, and she was eager to snatch it away.

"Roland," she snapped her fingers, "fetch the necklace. Anton just landed and will be here shortly. He's dying to see me draped in this little bauble."

The thought of my mother's necklace around her neck made my stomach churn, but I kept my composure for my father's sake.

"Skylar, every piece has its price. Name yours, and I'll pay in installments," I said.

She pouted, a grotesque parody of innocence. "But I promised Anton that I'd wear it to our candlelit dinner tonight. Why don't you come along and ask him yourself?"

"Meet him? Absolutely not!" My father's voice boomed from behind me.

He stormed over, grabbing my arm. "You're going to divorce him right now."

"Dad, wait!" I tugged at his sleeve. "The necklace, Dad. It's still with her."

"Forget about the necklace. Just come with me," he said, trying to take me away.

As I refused to move, he looked at me with deep frustration. "He's treating you like dirt and dragging our family through the mud. You can't possibly want to stay with him."

I avoided his gaze, my voice barely a whisper. "Dad, I need to talk to him."

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "There are plenty of fish in the sea! Why him?"

I looked down, a lump forming in my throat.

There were indeed plenty of fish, but Anton was the only one who had stolen my heart.

My father stormed off, leaving me to face Skylar's scorn alone.

Roland returned with the necklace, and Skylar smirked.

"Come with me."

I followed her out of the auction hall. Outside, I saw our car—the one we'd chosen together.

I'd favored white, but Anton had preferred black. He'd chosen white without a second thought.

I asked him why he hadn't chosen black since he traveled frequently. He had told me, "I'm buying this car to take you to places you like. It's your car, Erica. Your favorite color, your choice."

Skylar slithered into the car and sat next to Anton.

As I remained outside, he rolled down the window. The eyes that had once held galaxies of love now regarded me with arctic indifference.

...

"Anton," Skylar purred, "I finally got the necklace, but she wants it too. She's asking me to give it to her. What should I do?"

I stared at Anton. "It's my mother's heirloom."

He knew the hell I'd gone through after her death, the emptiness she'd left behind. All that remained of her was that necklace, found by someone amidst the wreckage of the car accident.