Chapter 2 The next day, I showed up right on time to the auction house. This time I skipped the red dress for an emerald green one instead. I was supposed to present Damien's artwork as his wife, but I went completely off-script: "I think a husband who can't even paint his wife's face after five years of marriage must feel pretty trapped by it all." "So I've decided to set him free." "Damien Ashford and I are done. We wish each other well." I walked out through a room of shocked faces, got in my car, and only then noticed my hands shaking. Not from fear-from the relief of finally breaking free. Damien's calls started blowing up my phone. I turned it off without hesitation. I hadn't gotten far when a Bentley blocked my path completely. Damien got out, his face thunderous: 'Luna, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yanked me out of the car, gripping me hard enough to shatter bone. 'Who gave you permission to run your mouth like that?!" I stared coldly at his unhinged expression. Which part wasn't true?" That shut him up, making him even angrier. 'Do you have any idea how your little stunt could hurt innocent people?" "What if reporters start digging and drag Aria into this? She's about to join the New York Philharmonic!" The pain in my chest exploded, nearly tearing me apart. Even now, he was still protecting that precious girl-Aria Sterling. "Damien, you can remember her?" Pure frustration crossed Damien's face: "So what if I do? She means something different to me." "But I married you, I AM your wife!" "Luna! Don't forget-you're the one who begged for this marriage." Yeah. It was all my obsession. Damien couldn't even remember what I looked like, so how could he remember a promise from fifteen years ago? I wiped the tears from my face: "Damien, I regret it. Let's end this." Damien went quiet, but his face didn't show the relief I'd expected. After a long pause, like he'd made some major decision, he said: "Stop being dramatic. Just go back to wearing red dresses like before, and I won't mix you up anymore." "I'm not getting divorced." "Really?" forced a smile and looked up at him. He'd apparently forgotten what he'd taken from me first thing this morning. All I'd done was swap my contacts for glasses and put on a business suit. Damien had automatically assumed I was the new gallery assistant and signed the divorce papers without even looking, then asked me to organize some old paintings in the attic. When I opened the attic door, the entire room was filled with portraits of Aria. In evening gowns, in flowing sundresses, in workout clothes. No matter how Aria changed, Damien's brush captured her perfectly every time. The oldest sketch showed Aria in middle school. Red dress, high ponytail. Identical to the look I'd desperately maintained for five years. Lost in thought, Damien took my hand: 'Luna, I promise this is the last time." I was about to lay everything out when Damien suddenly dropped my hand and chased after someone. Halfway there, Damien seemed to remember something. He turned back and called out: 'Luna, wait right there. I'll be back in a sec." But he was shouting toward another woman entirely. She was also wearing the same emerald dress as me. This time, I didn't wait.