Back in the day, in the legal world, Finn Cross and I were the top dogs. Untouchable.

He ran New York, a king in criminal defense, never lost a case.

I held down Boston, crushing it in civil court.

People in the biz used to say it was a good thing we weren't in the same city.

If we were, we’d have gone head-to-head, and it was anyone's guess who'd come out on top.

But they never would've guessed.

Three years ago, I, Victoria Sterling, quietly married Finn Cross.

And just like that, the legend of "Vicky" was locked away.

I was willing to leave my career behind, to be the quiet, supportive woman behind the great man.

I made his coffee, went with him to all sorts of events, and left a light on for him when he came home late.

But when Elena, the one he’d always carried a torch for, showed up again, I couldn't keep up this charade anymore.

Back in the day, in the legal world, Finn Cross and I were the top dogs. Untouchable.

He ran New York, a king in criminal defense, never lost a case.

I held down Boston, crushing it in civil court.

People in the biz used to say it was a good thing we weren't in the same city.

If we were, we’d have gone head-to-head, and it was anyone's guess who'd come out on top.

But they never would've guessed.

Three years ago, I, Victoria Sterling, quietly married Finn Cross.

And just like that, the legend of "Vicky" was locked away.

I was willing to leave my career behind, to be the quiet, supportive woman behind the great man.

I made his coffee, went with him to all sorts of events, and left a light on for him when he came home late.

But when Elena, the one he’d always carried a torch for, showed up again, I couldn't keep up this charade anymore.

...

I was standing by the huge glass window of our Mount Pleasant mansion.

I hesitated for maybe three seconds, then dialed the number I hadn’t called in three years.

"Vickyyyyy?" Ryan’s voice on the other end was shaking. "You’re actually calling me! I can’t believe it!"

"I’m coming back to the firm," I said, my voice soft.

Silence for three seconds. Then, a shriek.

"Oh my god, are you serious?!" Ryan practically shouted, scrambling to his feet and nearly knocking a pile of files off his desk. "This is amazing! Ever since you stepped away, Finn’s snatched dozens of major criminal cases right out from under us! We’re barely hanging on! Three years, Vicky, you have no idea."

"All these years, so many of your old clients have been holding out, waiting for you. The second word gets out you're back, the whole legal world is going to lose its mind!"

I slowly looked up, staring at my reflection in the window.

My hair fell softly around my shoulders.

The black knit sweater washed me out, making my face look pale and drained.

My apron still had a few splatters of butter from making Finn’s eggs this morning.

The perfect picture of a stay-at-home wife.

No one would ever guess this was the "Queen of Civil Litigation" who could back Wall Street hotshots into a corner.

"And, hey, after all this time, has Finn figured out who you really are? Did he say it was okay for you to…"

"He won't have a say much longer. I'm getting a divorce," I cut him off. "The next time we meet, it'll be in court."

After I hung up, I was about to head back to the bedroom when my phone lit up.

A text from Finn:

[Pick me up at The Crown. Nine. Drunk.]

I stared at the message.

No please, no thanks.

He hadn't changed a bit in three years.

Always barking orders at me, like I was just another employee.

I changed into a black dress and drove to the private club.

Just as I was about to push open the door to the VIP room, I heard laughter.

"Finn, how many wins is that in a row? You're a living legend! Is there any case in the whole legal world you can't crack? Seriously, even God would have to bow down to you."

"Hold on now," another voice chimed in. "Wasn't there that Vicky chick who was pretty much his equal back in the day? Too bad she just vanished three years ago. Poof, gone."

"Probably settled down, family life, you know? It's been three years. Bet she’s got a kid walking by now. Doubt she'll ever come back."

"Well, our top lawyer Finn’s been married three years too, right? Forget about kids, he practically lives at the office, never wants to go home. But Finn, seriously, after all this time, are you still so cold to Victoria?"

"Duh! Finn can't stand those sweet, domestic types like Victoria. If she hadn't crawled into his bed when he was drunk, why would he have married her? Finn likes strong, independent women who can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Like Elena. Even after all these years, he's still totally hung up on her."

When Elena’s name hit my ears, a chill flickered in my eyes, and I pushed the door open.

The whole room went dead silent.

Everyone just stared at each other.

I ignored them.

I scanned the room and saw Finn, completely out of it, slumped on the sofa with his eyes closed.

His handsome, stern face looked dark and hard to read in the dim lights of the room.

I walked over and helped him up.

His arm pressed down on my shoulder, the weight nearly making me stumble.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne mixed with the smell of whiskey hit me, and for a second, I felt a little dazed.

The last time we’d been this close was that ridiculous night three years ago.

Just as I got him settled in the back seat of the car, he suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms.

Then, his lips were on mine, warm and crushing. Aggressive.

I froze.

In three years of marriage, besides that one accident, he’d never once kissed me on his own.

His tongue, tasting of alcohol, pushed into my mouth, roughly exploring.

I could barely breathe, but I couldn't stop myself from sinking into it.

Until he mumbled a name in his haze: "Elena…"

So, he thought I was someone else.

A sharp pain lanced through my chest.

I stared hard at the man in front of me. "Do you really feel that much for her?"

Finn didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed the back of my head harder, his kiss turning fiercer.

His fingers dug into my hair, like he wanted to crush me into his very bones, to swallow me whole.

His hot breath fanned my face.

The car door behind me was locked.

I had nowhere to go.

I could only close my eyes and endure an intimacy that wasn't meant for me.

When our lips finally parted, he whispered by my ear, still lost in a drunken fog.

"...Don't leave me."

I slowly closed my eyes. After a long silence, I took a document out of my bag and held it in front of him.

"If you really don't want me to leave, then sign this."

Finn looked at me with those blurry, drunken eyes.

I knew he was looking through me, seeing someone else.

But in the end, he signed his name on the paper.

"Once the divorce is finalized in a month, Finn, we’ll both be free."

I gave a sarcastic little laugh, staring at the signed divorce agreement in my hand, my mind a whirl of thoughts.

The moonlight spilled gently into the car, and suddenly I remembered the first time I met Finn.

It was in the Harvard Law library.

I’d just published a pretty controversial article in the Harvard Law Review, and a bunch of academic types were ganging up on me.

One of them even grabbed my wrist, hard.

Just when I felt like I was suffocating, a hand shot out and clamped down on that guy’s wrist, so tight I almost heard a bone crack.

"Starting a fight in the library? You trying to get expelled?"

A low, cold voice, sharp as a razor, cut through the air.

I looked up and met a pair of dark, intense eyes.

My heart gave a little flutter.

Later, I found out the man who’d stepped in was none other than my unseen rival.

Finn Cross.

From then on, I started making frequent "business trips" to New York.

I saw him in court, leaving Wall Street lawyers speechless.

I watched him smoke by the floor-to-ceiling windows of skyscrapers, a king surveying his domain.

I even started showing up at the private clubs he went to, but he never recognized me.

Until that night, I found Finn at a whiskey bar, completely wasted.

He gripped my wrist, his voice hoarse, "Why do you have to leave?"

I didn't understand what he meant, but before I could think, his lips were on mine.

That night, our skin touched, our breaths mingled.

His hands roamed over my body, setting every inch of me on fire.

The next morning, he woke up.

He stared at me, naked beside him, and the clothes scattered everywhere, for a long, silent moment.

"Let's get married. I'll take responsibility."

After a pause, I nodded.

Then I turned around and resigned as a partner at my firm.

I hid my identity as "Vicky," the legal eagle, and married him.

After we got married, he was always cold, rarely came home, and never shared my bed again.

The fire of that night felt like a dream I’d made up.

I thought it was just his nature, and I hoped I could warm his heart with gentleness.

Until one day, I found that photo in his study.

A girl in a red dress, standing by the Charles River in Cambridge, her smile so bright it stung my eyes.

The words on the back stabbed me like a knife:

"Since I can't marry you, it doesn't matter who I marry."

Later, I learned she was his first love, a famous ballet dancer.

Elena Rose.

After graduation, Elena chose to study in Europe and broke up with him.

All these years, he still couldn't forget her.

The reason he’d gotten so drunk that night was because he’d heard Elena had a new European boyfriend.

During our three years of marriage, I saw him toss the scarf I knitted for him into a corner.

I saw him throw the birthday present I’d carefully picked out into the junk room.

And I saw him, after hearing Elena was coming back to the country, dump me on the side of the road during an attack of acute gastroenteritis.

As I was collapsing, he told me to call my own ambulance before peeling out to rush to the airport to pick her up.

In that moment, my heart completely died.

I wasn't so desperate that I had to chase a man who wasn't mine.

Especially when his heart already belonged to someone else.

If that's the case, why not become Vicky again and let him and Elena finally be together?

After putting the divorce agreement in my bag, I drove back to Mount Pleasant.

After getting Finn into the master bedroom, I started packing, working through the night.

The next morning, Finn woke up, sober, and the first thing he saw was luggage everywhere.

He frowned slightly, his voice cool as he asked, "What are you doing?"

I was folding clothes. I paused for a second, then went on tidying up like nothing was wrong.

"Just packing away some seasonal clothes," I said casually.

Since we got married, I’d gotten used to handling these household chores.

As for Finn, he never paid any attention to what I did.

He didn't press it, just walked straight to the bathroom.

When I’d finished packing everything and was ready to leave, the doorbell rang.

Elena Rose stood outside, dressed in an ivory white suit, looking as elegant as a model straight out of a magazine.

"Hello, I'm an old friend of Finn's," she said with a gentle smile. "Is he home?"

Old friend. Right.

I let her in.

The moment Finn saw her, his eyes lit up. "What are you doing here?"

Elena handed him a thick legal document, her voice soft. "I'm getting a divorce, but things are a bit tricky. Can you help me?"

I glanced at the file.

It involved property division across US and Swiss nationalities, with over two million dollars in dispute.

It wasn’t just messy. It was a warzone.

Finn agreed without a second thought, even immediately calling his assistant to cancel all his appointments.

His law partner, Marcus, called him, shocked, asking why he’d take on a case he was bound to lose.

Finn just said, "I've got this."

I stood there, watching it all with cold eyes.

I knew this case was a long shot. It involved complicated European and American laws, and Finn, who always specialized in criminal cases, had never touched divorce law.

But he took it anyway.

Only because the client was Elena.

In the days that followed, Finn buried himself in the case files, practically living and breathing them.

Elena came over almost every day to "discuss the case."

Every day, a different fancy dessert, imported chocolates, beautiful flowers – he showered her with all the little attentive things I’d never gotten.

I was like an invisible person no one cared about, watching this man who felt both familiar and like a stranger, quietly packing up the things I wasn’t planning to take.

One afternoon, stressed out and hitting a wall, a colleague suggested he get help from "Vicky."

That legendary queen of civil litigation.

Finn, for the first time ever, actually went searching for her contact information.

He dialed the number.

My phone rang.

He called ten times.

No one answered.

He had no idea the person he was looking for was sitting right there in the living room.

A bitter taste filled my mouth.

Look at that. He didn't even have my number saved.

When I heard him say he was going to my old firm to ask around, I had to speak up, mentioning a few key legal points.

"How do you know this stuff?" he asked, surprised.

"I studied law too," I said lightly. "Seen plenty of cases like this."

Watching me talk so easily about it, Finn really looked at me for the first time, like he was seeing me in a new light.

But I just smiled and went back to my folding.

A few weeks later, he excitedly told me Elena’s case was won.

I just nodded coolly. "Congratulations."

Elena invited me to her ballet charity gala.

I wanted to say no, but Finn insisted I go with him.

He said, “You’ll love it. It’s important to her.”

At the gala, Elena’s manager, Alice, told me that Finn had never missed a single one of Elena’s performances over the years.

He always sent her favorite champagne roses.

I listened quietly as the final, ugly puzzle piece slid into place.

So that’s what all those "important meetings" and "urgent business trips" were really about.

In that moment, I truly understood where I stood with him.

Just a placeholder, easily ignored.

And now, he could finally, openly, pursue his true love.

And me?

I was done pretending.

It was time for me to start my new life.