Chapter 2 - The Severance

Nolan did not blink. “Camille is my partner, Laurel. In every way that matters to my future.”
The ballroom seemed to hold its collective breath. Laurel looked down at the pale silk clinging damply to her swollen stomach, then back up at the man she had loved for seven years. There was no rage in his eyes. Worse, there was only cold utility. To Nolan, people were simply assets or liabilities, and tonight, she had become an inconvenience.
“I see,” Laurel said softly.
Camille stepped closer to Nolan, her fingers lightly trailing along his sleeve. “Don’t make this uglier than it already is, Laurel. Nolan has arranged a car for you outside. Take it. Go home, rest, and tomorrow we can discuss a quiet settlement.”
“A settlement,” Laurel repeated, the word tasting like ash.
“You’ll be taken care of,” Nolan murmured, his tone shifting back to that practiced, smooth patronization. “You and the child. I’m not a monster. But I will not allow you to ruin this deal or embarrass me again.”
Laurel looked at Camille’s triumphant smirk, then at Nolan’s outstretched hand offering her a clean linen handkerchief. She didn’t take it. Instead, she reached down to the third finger of her left hand. The seven-carat platinum diamond band had once symbolized a promise of eternal loyalty. Now it was merely cold metal.
She slid it off her knuckle.
Nolan’s eyes widened slightly. “What are you doing?”
Laurel dropped the ring straight into Nolan’s half-empty glass of Scotch. It sank with a dull, heavy clink, hitting the ice.
“You’re right,” Laurel said, her voice steady enough to slice through the stillness. “A baby cannot make you love me. But you are mistaken about one thing, Camille.”
Camille’s smile wavered. “And what is that?”
“I have somewhere to go.”
May you like
Laurel turned her back on both of them. She did not hurry. She walked with her head held high, ignoring the whispers, the flashes of camera phones, and the pitying stares. As she stepped out of the gilded ballroom into the biting December snow, the cold air struck her face like a slap, waking every sleeping nerve. She didn't wait for Nolan’s driver. She hailed a yellow cab, climbed in, and whispered to the driver, “Brooklyn.”
***