"One month. City Hall." Her smile was razor-thin. "You'd better still have this much backbone then. Don't come crawling back, crying and begging me to tear this up."
She was so certain.
Every time before, I'd forgiven her. Swallowed my pride for the sake of the alliance between our families. She believed—knew—I'd never actually go through with it.
She was wrong.
"Don't worry." I met her gaze without flinching. "I won't change my mind."
I turned and walked out without looking back.
I didn't go home.
I booked a hotel room for a month instead—long enough to wait out the mandatory cooling-off period.
In the days that followed, Rosemary didn't send a single message.
Word reached me through the grapevine: Frederick had mentioned wanting to learn to ski in Switzerland. Rosemary happened to own an estate there, so she'd whisked him away.
Louis Sullivan's voice crackled through the phone, seething with disbelief.
"What the actual hell is she thinking?"
"Everyone knows that estate was built for you. After she confessed her feelings, she had it constructed specifically to give you a belated honeymoon. It's only ever been open to you."