The Last Rain Before Goodbye

I had just closed the closet when the front door creaked open downstairs.

Gianna's voice floated in first, then came the click of her heels. She latched onto Calvin's arm like she owned him.

Honestly? She looked more like the lady of the house than I ever did.

Calvin spotted me and raised a brow. "Gianna doesn't have a place to stay in Carmoria. She'll be living with us for a few days."

"Alright."

Didn't bother asking why, out of all his mansions and penthouses, this was the only option.

Asking would've just made me look pathetic.

I kept my voice low. "Should I move out? Save you the hassle?"

He frowned, clearly not loving the optics. "No need. Just give up the master bedroom."

"Okay."

No fight. No drama. I just turned and started packing. Guest room it was.

As we passed each other in the hallway, Gianna dialed up her voice. "Calvin, you KNOW I'm a clean freak. Have the housekeeper disinfect the room—I can't deal with dirty spaces."

My steps froze mid-stride. I looked at Calvin.

No way he missed what she really meant.

Of course he didn't. He just didn't care.

"It's too late tonight. I'll take you to a hotel. Come back tomorrow after it's cleaned."

Gianna giggled and launched herself into his arms, tossing me a smug little glance over his shoulder. "Fine, but you have to stay with me. I'll be scared alone."

Calvin didn't even blink. Took her downstairs and walked out the door.

And there I was—standing alone with a half-zipped suitcase and a stomach full of regret.

What a joke.

I glanced down. The mark from my wedding ring still ghosted my finger.

Three years of lies I told myself. Three years of pretending I mattered.

At 11 p.m., I finalized the divorce agreement with my lawyer.

Outside the window, the rain finally started to fall.

Gianna's social feed lit up with a fresh post.

Her and Calvin, curled up on a hotel bed.

She was all dolled up, smiling like she'd just won the lottery.

Caption: [Side by side, with hearts beating as one.]

Yeah. I'd had that kind of embrace once, too.

Six months ago. Right after my mom's funeral.

Three years back, I married Calvin for the money—just enough to cover her medical bills. I knew he didn't love me.

Still sold every last shred of dignity I had.

Didn't matter.

All that cash couldn't save her.

That night, with the rain drowning Auremburg, I sat in the dark, clutching her old clothes, crying so quietly it hurt.

Calvin walked in. Didn't say a word.

He just pulled me onto the bed and held me. All night.

When my mom left this world, when I had absolutely no one left—

He gave me that one, single moment of comfort.

And for a split second, I believed I had a home again.

Really thought I'd made it.

I was so close.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I hit "like" on her post.

Set the phone down. Closed my eyes. Tried to forget.

Ten minutes later, my screen lit up with a pinned message:

[Still awake?]

***

I sat up when I heard the ding.

More messages followed—Calvin, of course.

[I saw Gianna's post. Don't overthink it. I was only with her for a bit.]

Then came the e-wallet transfer. His favorite move: buy peace, buy silence, buy me.

Since Mom died, I'd stopped taking his money unless he pushed.

Usually took a couple nudges before I gave in.

But this time? I accepted it without flinching.

[Thank you, Mr. Buxton.]

Phone rang instantly.

He sounded thrown off. "Why'd you take it so fast this time?"

Before I could answer, Gianna's syrupy voice cut in with a giggle.

"Ms. Astor, since you're still up, could you bring us a bowl of saffron milk soup to the hotel?"