I just nodded. Real quick.
After signing, I got out on bail.
Outside the courthouse, Simon opened the car door like he used to—hand over my head and all, acting like nothing changed.
Still rocking the fake-fiancé look, he gave me those soft eyes. “Heidi, let me take you home.”
Home? Yeah, right.
That villa was packed with memories, but it wasn’t mine anymore.
The second we walked in, some strong, cheap perfume smacked me in the face.
Everything had changed. My clean, minimalist style? Gone. Replaced with tacky junk.
Even our wedding photo got shoved in a dusty storage room.
When he saw me staring at it, his face twitched—embarrassed for a sec—then boom, back to fake-sweet mode.
“All of this was Nancy’s idea…”
