Chapter 1

**Jane**

Tears welled up in my eyes as I watched Philip and Sarah's fairy-tale wedding. We were in Dubai, at Grandpa Mitchell's mansion, surrounded by a small circle of close friends and family, all gathered to witness the couple's intimate vows.

Yet, as they exchanged their promises of love, a deep sense of incompleteness washed over me. Perhaps there's truth in the saying that when life becomes a cycle of repetition-office, work, the Cornell mansion, and back again-you start to feel like something important is missing.

After the ceremony, I embraced Sarah tightly, tears threatening to spill. "Congratulations, love!"

The celebration continued, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I knew I needed to return to London to calm my churning emotions.

"Auntie Jane, are you alright?" Iris asked, her voice full of concern as she sat beside me at the round table with Rowan by her side.

I plastered on a smile, hoping it looked genuine. "Yes, sweetheart. Why do you ask?"

"You look sad."

I managed a small lie, surprised by the perceptiveness of such a young girl. "I'm not sad, Auntie Jane just has a headache. And I'll miss you because I'll return to work soon."

"Aww..." Ronan pouted, making me feel guilty about leaving.

As the evening progressed, I made my way through the crowd to find Sarah. She was radiant, champagne flute in hand, laughing at something Philip had said. I hated to dampen her joy, but I needed to tell her.

"I have to go to London; I need to take care of something. My flight is tonight, so I'll head straight to the airport from here."

Sarah's face fell at the news. "I was hoping we could spend more time together tomorrow. But if you must go..." She paused, then added with a knowing look, "Take care! And... meet with Brody!"

I offered her a bittersweet smile.

The seven-hour flight to London felt interminable. I barely touched the in-flight meal, my mind too preoccupied with the swirling emotions I couldn't quite name. A sense of determination settled over me as the plane touched down at Heathrow. I needed answers, and I knew where to start looking.

I directed the taxi to Brody's penthouse - our old home.

Brody still lived in the penthouse where we once shared a life. I hoped he hadn't changed the security code-I knew it by heart.

Brody still lives in our old penthouse, but I insisted he keep it when we divorce. This decision has led to an odd situation: I stay at a hotel every time I'm in London, despite Brody's repeated assurances that I'm welcome to use the penthouse.

Do I have a strange relationship with him? Absolutely.

As the elevator doors slid open, I was met with an unexpected sight. A woman with cascading blonde hair and striking green eyes sat on the familiar leather couch; her brow furrowed in confusion at my sudden appearance.

"Oh my God!" I blurted out.

For a moment, I wondered if I'd somehow entered the wrong apartment. Had Brody sold the place? Thankfully, the woman didn't scream or accuse me of breaking in. She just stared, bewildered.

"Uh" she muttered.

Before I could gather my thoughts, Brody emerged from the study, a document in one hand and his phone pressed to his ear. His eyes widened as they landed on me, the color draining from his face.

"Jane!" The surprise in his voice was unmistakable.

My gaze darted between Brody and the beautiful stranger on our-his-couch.

No!

Damn it! Is he seeing someone now? Given how gorgeous the woman on the couch is, it wouldn't be shocking if she were his new love interest. I have no claim on his life anymore, no right to feel this stupid, sudden rush of jealousy.

"Uh, I-I'm sorry!" I stammered, heat rising to my cheeks. "I didn't know you had company."

Brody's mouth opened, but no words came out. I was grateful the elevator was still waiting. I stepped back inside,  jabbing at the close button with trembling fingers.

"Jane, wait!" Brody called out. I heard him hastily excuse himself from his phone conversation just as the elevator doors slid shut, taking me down to the lobby.

How could I have been so thoughtless? Yes, Brody had offered me use of the penthouse, and I hadn't even bothered to book a hotel, but I should have checked with him first-I wouldn't be in this mess if I had.

The taxi ride to the hotel was blurry, my mind spinning with emotion. Brody had moved on-it hit me hard. He wouldn't bring another woman to our old place if she didn't mean something to him, right?

I felt stupid, hurt, confused, and overwhelmed with regret. Should I blame myself for Brody seeking companionship elsewhere?

No, I shouldn't complain; he wronged me by not addressing my feelings, which is why I divorced him.

His failure to address my concerns to settle my unease was what drove me to leave our marriage.

Cheating isn't always about physical infidelity. It can be emotional too-making your partner feel insecure, uncomfortable, second-guessing their place in your life because of someone else.

That's precisely what happened between us. I tried my best to communicate, but he ignored me. Brody may not have cheated in the conventional sense, but he still betrayed me, and it hurt just the same.

I hadn't even noticed I was crying until I tasted the salt on my lips.

Well, now it seems impossible for us. He's found someone new.

I revisited my memories from when Brody and I were still married...

SPECIAL