She deleted every single draft. She remembered Leo telling her not to respond until she had spoken to someone who could help her properly. For the first time in their marriage, she let herself not answer James. It was a terrifying, empowering choice.
She got out of bed and dressed in the clothes she had packed. When she stepped into the hallway, she heard Leo'svoice drifting up from the downstairs kitchen. He was on the phone. His tone was controlled, strictly businesslike, but Olivia could hear the coiled anger vibrating beneath it.
"Yes, marital funds," Leo said. "No, she has copies... She is not going back there alone... I need someone who can move fast on this."
Olivia stopped at the top of the stairs. He had already started helping her. The realization brought a complicated rush of emotions. Part of her was profoundly relieved. Part of her felt terrible guilt for dragging him into the wreckage of her life. And part of her felt deeply ashamed that someone else now knew how terribly her husband had betrayed her.
She considered going back into the guest room, but the floorboard creaked under her foot. Leo looked up. He ended the call immediately, setting his phone on the kitchen counter.
Olivia walked down the stairs.
"How did you sleep?" Leo asked gently.
Olivia almost laughed. The question felt entirely impossible. "I don't think I did."
Leo did not push. He turned toward the stove. "Coffee? Tea? I have toast if you want something simple."
He moved carefully around her. He did not treat her like she was fragile, but he made sure not to crowd her. He offered choices instead of commands. The contrast with James was sharp and painful. James always told her what things meant, what she felt, what she understood, and what she should do. Leo just asked.
"Coffee would be great, thank you," Olivia said, sitting on one of the barstools at the island.
Leo set a steaming mug in front of her. "I spoke to someone I trust," he said, keeping his voice even. "You don't have to worry about the details today, but you need a lawyer,Liv. And probably a forensic accountant to trace the transfers. We need to make copies of everything in that folder and keep the originals secure."
Olivia flinched at the wordlawyer. It made the end of her marriage sound so final, so clinical.
Leo saw the reaction. His expression softened. "You don't have to decide everything today."
"But I have to decide something," Olivia murmured, wrapping her hands around the warm mug.
"You do," Leo agreed. "And the first decision can simply be that you are not going back to James's house today."
The phrasing affected her. She had spent years thinking of that place as her home. Now, Leo called it James's house, and Olivia realized with a sickening drop in her stomach that he was right. It did not feel like hers anymore.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway, and Brooklyn walked into the kitchen.
She was dressed in comfortable clothes, looking effortlessly composed. Her presence was polite, a little awkward given the circumstances, but not territorial. "Good morning," Brooklyn said, offering a small smile. "Do you want more coffee, Olivia? Or breakfast?"
"I am okay, thank you," Olivia replied, trying to be polite, but the embarrassment flared hot in her chest. She remembered Brooklyn opening the door the night before. She remembered how comfortable the woman looked in Leo's space. She wondered if she had intruded on a relationship, bringing her messy divorce right into the middle of Leo's new life. She wanted to ask, but she had no right. Not after showing up in tears. Not after Leo had been so distant for months.
Brooklyn seemed to read the discomfort in the room. She excused herself with total grace. "I have some things to takecare of. Take your time, Olivia." She gave Leo a brief nod and walked out of the kitchen.
Olivia stared into her coffee mug. "I need to go to the bakery."
Leo frowned instantly. "Are you sure that is a good idea?"
"The bakery cannot stop functioning just because my marriage did," Olivia said, her voice turning firm. "I have weekend orders, staff relying on me, customers, and the competition documents to organize. I need to be somewhere that belongs to me."
Leo studied her face. He understood the need for control. "I will drive you."
"No, I have my car."
"Then I will follow you," he offered.
Olivia started to object, but Leo held up a hand. "I am not trying to control you, Liv. I just want to know you get there safely."
The distinction mattered to her more than she could admit. "Okay," she agreed. "But you have to promise you won't come inside and scare my employees."
Leo gave her a dry look. "I know how to enter a bakery without terrorizing civilians."
