Chapter 3

Natalie’s POV

Julian and I had slept in separate bedrooms for years.

Eleanor knew. The housekeepers knew. Only the public believed we were a happily married couple.

The next morning, I drove straight to Rachel's law firm in midtown Manhattan.

Rachel was reviewing a brief when I walked in. She raised an eyebrow. "Long time no see, Mrs. Vance."

"Don't call me that," I said, sitting across from her and pulling out a folder. "Julian and I were never legally married."

Rachel's pen stopped mid-air. She stared at me. "What do you mean?"

"It was a two thousand day companion contract," I said, sliding the document toward her. "Playing the devoted partner and mother until it ended. It expired yesterday."

Rachel froze for several seconds before leaning back into her leather chair with a massive exhale. "I knew you couldn't stay with that arrogant prick forever. So, you're here to draft a separation agreement?"

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "We were never married, so there's no divorce. I need you to notarize a relinquishment of parental rights."

Rachel nearly jumped out of her chair. "You want to surrender what?!"

"My parental rights," I repeated steadily. "Over Leo."

"Are you insane, Natalie?" Rachel glared at me in shock. "He's your biological son! You carried him for nine months!"

"I know." My voice was eerily calm, as if discussing someone else's life. "Just draft the paperwork, Rachel. Don't ask."

Rachel stared at me for a long time, searching my face for any sign of hesitation. Seeing none, she sighed and began typing out the document.

The click-clack of the keyboard filled the silence of the office, accompanied only by the low hum of the air conditioner.

I stared out the floor-to-ceiling window at the New York skyline. The sky was an impossible, piercing blue.

When she handed me the signed and stamped waiver, Rachel caught my wrist.

"Natalie."

"Yeah?"

"Even two thousand days can't warm up a stone," she said softly, her eyes full of pity. "Take care of yourself from now on. Stop carrying the world on your shoulders."

I nodded, tucked the document into my bag, and said nothing.

After leaving the firm, I headed straight to the passport agency to expedite my passport renewal.

Photos, application forms, fees paid. Because I paid for priority processing, the document would be ready for pickup within the week.

Stepping out onto the street, I crossed two more items off the checklist on my phone.

Relinquish parental rights—done.

Renew passport—done.

Four out of seven done. Three left.

I slipped my phone into my pocket and headed toward the parking garage.

By the time I returned to the estate, it was 10:00 AM.

The breakfast on the counter had gone cold hours ago, so I tossed it into a skillet to reheat.

Once it was warm, I carried the tray upstairs and knocked on the master bedroom door.

The door clicked open.

Chloe stepped out wearing Julian’s oversized dress shirt, her hair a tousled mess. She smiled at me lazily. "My phone died, so I was just charging it in his room."

Julian stepped out right behind her. One of his shirt buttons was misaligned, and there was a faint, unmistakable reddish mark behind his ear.

I glanced at it and let out a soft scoff.

"What's funny?" Julian snapped, looking defensive.

"Nothing." I placed the tray on the console table in the hallway. "Breakfast is ready. Come down when you're done."

I didn't bother calling them out.

What would be the point? To listen to another flimsy excuse, only for everything to stay exactly the same?

When the three of us walked downstairs, Leo was already seated at the dining table.

He took a bite of a croissant and immediately spat it onto his plate. "This croissant is gross! It's not fresh. I want a freshly baked one from the bakery!"

"Just eat a little, Leo," Julian coaxed, but the boy crossed his arms and began throwing a tantrum.

Chloe took a sip of her orange juice and purred, "By the way, Natalie, I'd love to take a hot bath later. Could you run the tub for me? Forty degrees Celsius would be perfect."

Julian immediately turned to me. "Go run a bath for Chloe."

I was setting down the silverware, and my hands didn't stop. "I can't."

"What?"

"I said, I can't." I looked up into his eyes, my voice flat. "If she wants a bath, she can turn the faucet herself. If she doesn't, she doesn't have to bathe."

The dining room went completely still.

Julian froze.

He clearly never expected me to refuse—let alone refuse so bluntly in front of Chloe.

After all, for two thousand days, I had never once said no.