Easton POV:

Le Pierre .

"I want the spicy lamb," Kelly barked. "Extra chili oil."

The waiter looked pained.

I sat staring at my water. The headache felt like rot inside my skull.

When the food arrived, the chili fumes assaulted my heightened senses. I coughed.

"What's wrong?" Kelly asked.

"Too strong."

I remembered Brooke's cooking. Always mild. Always protein-rich. She knew my nose was sensitive without me ever saying a word.

"This waiter is useless," Kelly snapped her fingers. "Hey! You!"

The entitlement grated against my soul.

"Stop it," I said.

"Excuse me?"

"I said stop it!" I slammed my hand down. Wine glass shattered.

Silence.

"You are rude. You are selfish. You don't know anything about me!"

"We have a 99% match!"

"That's a number on a screen! You don't know what I eat. You don't know me !"

I flipped the table. Plates crashed. A symphony of destruction.

I stormed out.

My phone rang. The lawyer.

"Mr. Spencer. The divorce decree is final."

"Already?"

"Ms. Rollins signed everything. She waived all alimony. She just wanted the name removed."

Nothing. She wanted nothing.

I drove home to the dark villa. It smelled of stale air. A tomb.

Text from Kelly: Baby, come back! I'm sorry!

Nausea.

I sat on the stairs, alone in a mansion, feeling utterly poor.