It is the most expensive severance package in history, but the truth of it is much heavier. Brooks didn’t hand it to me as a payoff; he handed it to me as an invitation. He gave me the waiver and the money to level the playing field, to ensure I wasn’t his hostage. He wanted to see if I’d stay because I loved him, not because I was under contract.
I’m taking the deal.The lie still tastes like bile in the back of my throat. I can still see the look on his face when I said it, the way the light went out of his eyes, replaced by a cold, hollow vacuum. I saw the moment the walls slammed back up, instant and impenetrable.
I had to do it. I’ve replayed the scene in the library a thousand times. I see Penelope’s smug face as she holds up my phone, showing that text notification from the girls. I hear hervoice telling me she’d burn it all down, the name, the firm, Brooks’s future, unless I vanish.
I broke him to save him. I needed him to think I had a price so he would hate me enough to let me go. It was the only way to make him set me free without a fight.
I’ve been sitting in the dark for hours. I heard the buzzer last night. I knew it was him. I didn’t need to look at the intercom to know. I could feel the pull of him through the floorboards, the magnetic north of my entire life was standing on the sidewalk, and I was pinned to my sofa, shaking.
I pressed my palm against the cool wood of the door, holding my breath, tears streaming down my face in the dark. I wanted to open it. My god, I wanted to throw the door wide and bury my face in his chest and tell him everything. But I couldn’t. If I saw him, I’d fold. And if I folded, Penelope would win. So I stayed silent, listening to the city sounds, until I finally heard his footsteps retreat down the sidewalk.
A knock on the door startles me now, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the quiet room. I jump, splashing cold tea onto my hand. I know who it is. I ignored Maddy’s calls all weekend. I ignored Savvy’s texts demanding a “proof of life” photo. I even turned my phone off yesterday because I couldn’t handle the temptation of looking at the news alerts or the social media tags, anything that would show me a world that was continuing to turn without me.
I walk to the door. I unlock it.
Maddy and Savvy are standing in the hallway. They’re not smiling. Maddy is holding a box of donuts and a bottle of tequila. Savvy is holding a crowbar.
"I assume the crowbar is metaphorical?" I ask, stepping back to let them in.
"It's in case you tried to keep us out," Savvy says, marching past me. "Or for Brooks's kneecaps. I haven't decided yet."
“He’s in the Hamptons,” I say, closing the door. “His kneecaps are safe.”
Maddy sets the donuts on the counter and turns to me. Her eyes are soft, filled with that terrifying level of empathy that always makes me cry.
“You look terrible,” she says gently.
“Thank you. It’s the ‘I committed emotional suicide’ aesthetic. It’s very chic in Milan.”
Maddy walks over and wraps her arms around me. I stiffen for a second, trying to hold it together, but the familiar scent of her perfume breaks me. I slump against her, burying my face in her shoulder.
“I’m okay,” I lie, my voice muffled. “I’m fine. The job is done. Our company is safe.”
“You’re not fine,” Savvy says, her voice cutting through the heavy air of the living room. She pauses, her eyes dropping to the coffee table. “Holy shit, Ivy.”
She is staring at the check on the coffee table. I pull away from Maddy and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, feeling the grit of a weekend spent in the dark. I look at the crisp paper.
Savvy picks the check up, snapping the paper between her fingers. She whistles low, her eyes scanning the signature I know by heart. "Five hundred thousand. He didn't waste time buying his way out of the guilt."
“He didn’t.” I sink back onto the sofa. “He gave it to me to level the playing field. He wanted to see if I’d stay because I wanted him, not because of the contract. He gave me the money, so I’d be free to choose.”
“And you took it and ran?” Savvy asks, her brow furrowed.
“I chose the lie,” I whisper. “I took the money, so he’d believe I was the villain. I needed him to think it was transactional, so he wouldn’t follow me. If I’d refused it, he would have known something was wrong. He would have fought for me.”
My voice breaks. I drag in a breath.
“Someone was waiting for that,” I continue. “For the moment he chose me over everything else. For the moment the deal stopped being theoretical and became emotional.”
“Who?” Maddy asks.
I look at them. My partners. My sisters. We built Ever After on trust. I can’t lie to them, not when they can see straight through the Fixer mask to the girl bleeding out on her own IKEA rug.
“Penelope,” I say, my voice thin.
Savvy’s head snaps up. “Vanderbilt?”
“She cornered me in the library on Friday night.” My hands twist in my lap, breath catching. “She… she had proof. She knew the engagement was a sham. She threatened to tell Betty. She threatened to leak it to the press. She gave me an ultimatum: Leave him tonight, or she burns his entire legacy down.”
