KNOX
Juliette’s been in Edinburgh for a few days now, and every call and text from her has been full of little details she couldn’t wait to share. It’s all the kind of stuff I never knew I’d look forward to hearing, like what coffee she tried that morning, the street musician she stopped to listen to, or some shop she stumbled into and immediately thought I’d hate.
I miss her.
I barely have time to dwell on that, because today’s the day I have to sit across from Hallie. Maybe that’s part of why I’m missing Juliette like this. She’s the light in a part of my life that’s been nothing but fucking dark.
My stomach churns as I drive through the city. My thoughts are a mess of anxiety and anticipation wrestling for dominance in my mind. All these years of legal back and forth that have drained me more than I ever admitted are about to come to a head.
This is the finish line. No more fighting over a divorce that should have been granted from the start. If all goes to plan, this is over.
I pull into a parking space and cut the engine. For a minute, I just sit there. The office building stands in front of me, its light brown sandstone exterior deceptively calm.
When I step into the lobby, my gaze lands on Finn almost immediately. He’s pacing in the hushed space, every step wearing marks into the polished floor.
He notices me the second I walk in and gives me a look. I return it with a small nod. Quiet solidarity. We’ve been in this trench together long enough to not need words for it.
Finn scrubs a hand over his jaw when I walk up to him, exhaling hard. “You ready for this?”
I want to say no. I want to say I’d rather be anywhere else. Preferably Edinburgh in a warm hotel bed with Juliette curled against me, stealing all the covers and every last thought in my head.
Instead, I square my shoulders and say the only thing there is to say. “Aye. Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The click of heels cuts through the quiet like a warning shot. It’s enough to send a cold ripple down my spine. Funny how after all this time, I still know her by the sound of her entrance.
A moment later, Hallie steps up beside me. She looks every bit the part of the woman who’s spent years molding her image. Her long red hair cascades perfectly, the strands impossibly smooth. Her porcelain skin practically glows under the fluorescent lights. That bold scarlet lipstick she wears catches the light, giving her a sharp, predatory edge.
Everything about her screams control. Designer clothes that look more like armor than fashion, manicured nails painted crimson. It’s all so…precise.
The familiar coil of irritation pulls tight in my stomach like it always does around her. I take a slow, steadying breath andlock it down tight. She doesn’t get to take up that kind of space in me anymore.
Not when the only woman I can’t stop thinking about is wandering through cobblestone streets, sending me photos of little bookshops and terrible pints.
I brace myself, clenching my jaw tight enough my teeth ache. On cue, the moment Hallie’s gaze cuts to me, I catch the flicker of calculation in her eyes. Her mouth morphs into that razor sharp smirk that never quite reaches her eyes.
“Well, well, well,” she drawls, voice thick with disdain, “look who decided to show up on time.”
I bite down the first response that claws its way up my throat.Not today.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I say as Richard, her attorney, steps out of one of the offices.
“Ah,” he says, his polished voice smoothing over the tension like we’re all just old friends catching up. “Everyone’s here. Let’s head to the conference room.”
Without a word, Finn and I follow Richard down the too quiet hallway. By the time we reach the conference room, every muscle in my body is wound tight.
We settle in around the oak table, and Richard takes the lead. “Shall we review the terms? I believe both parties are now on the same page.”
God, I hope to hell he’s right.
Finn doesn’t waste a moment, his response clipped and firm. “We all know that Ms. MacKenzie has not been forthcoming about her actions. We’re choosing to overlook the money she withdrew before and during the marriage and separation.”
Richard leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly and nodding in agreement. “Right, to clarify,” he begins, his tone still calm, “she will be keeping the funds she has withdrawnfrom the joint account but will not be entitled to any further maintenance or assets.”
“Correct. I’ve drafted the agreement to ensure there is acknowledgment that the money was taken under…less than honorable circumstances,” Finn continues. “It’s clearly stated she won’t be receiving anything else from Mr. MacKenzie. There will also be acknowledgment of the adultery on Ms. MacKenzie’s part.”
Richard’s nod is slow, as if he’s mentally checking off every box. “The language is distinct in the agreement. Let’s also not forget the confidentiality clause. Ms. MacKenzie’s image is at stake here. No one needs to be airing any dirty laundry post-divorce.”
Finn’s response is immediate. “That goes both ways.”
