The Divorce Lie
Liam, who had always been a man carved from ice, suddenly shattered.
“Then break up with him! Why are you divorcing me?”
“This is between you and him. What does it have to do with me?”
“Did some asshole on the outside put you up to this?”
“No. It’s impossible. As long as I don’t agree to this, he’ll never be anything more than the other guy. He can keep dreaming!”
Wait. I thought this was just a business arrangement.
1
My marriage to Liam Sterling was a merger, pure and simple. A union of two families, not two people.
On our wedding night, I laid it all out for him.
“Don’t worry,” I said, pulling the pins from my hair. “I won’t develop any… inconvenient ideas. We can have our own lives. As long as we keep up appearances, we’re good.”
He blinked, probably surprised by my pragmatism. He gave a short, decisive nod. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
I wasn’t surprised. I’d heard the rumors for years: Liam Sterling’s heart already belonged to someone else.
Who she was, where she was, what she was doing now—I genuinely didn’t care. As long as he didn’t parade her in front of me, I could live with it. For the kind of money I now had access to, money I couldn’t spend in ten lifetimes, I could accept almost anything.
And so, our married life unfolded in a quiet, unremarkable rhythm.
We lived under the same roof, a sprawling minimalist mansion that felt more like a museum, and our daily conversations rarely went beyond “Morning,” “Afternoon,” or “Good night.”
And most of the time, I was the one saying them.
Liam would just nod, offering a clipped, “Hm.”
Occasionally, a flicker of guilt must have moved him, because he’d add a perfunctory warning. “It’s supposed to rain. I’ll have the driver pick you up tonight.” Or, “Are you going to that same place today?”
“That same place” was the chic downtown lounge where my friends and I held our weekly court. Liam had been there exactly once.
My friend Maya had immediately started in on him. “Getting a meeting with the Liam Sterling is harder than getting tickets to the Met Gala. Who knew he played the part of the doting husband for afternoon cocktails?”
Liam, who was used to boardrooms and not this kind of playful teasing, actually stammered. “Chloe is my wife. Being with her is… where I should be.”
He didn’t last long. A call came through, and he was on his feet, his expression a mask of apology. An urgent matter at the office.
I knew a convenient excuse when I heard one. He was off to see his real love, wasn’t he?
I waved a dismissive hand, playing the part of the magnanimous wife. “Go, go. Work is important.”
Before he left, he didn’t just settle our tab; he covered a blank check for whatever shopping my friends and I did for the rest of the afternoon.
The moment the door swung shut behind him, Maya leaned in, her eyes glinting. “Okay, spill. Is Mr. Ice King just as frosty in the bedroom?”
I nearly choked on my Aperol spritz.
How could I tell them that, a year into our marriage, Liam and I had never even… done that?
He was a workaholic. He’d come home late and disappear into his study, and by the time he emerged, I’d be fast asleep.
I mumbled something noncommittal.
They all shook their heads, a chorus of worldly advice.
“Chloe, a man who’s all looks and no action is a tragedy,” Maya said.
“Anyway, it’s a business arrangement, right? Everyone in our world has their own thing going on. I guarantee you Liam has someone on the side. Let me call up a few… distractions for you.”
“You’re gorgeous, you’re rich. Don’t let yourself be trapped on a glacier.”
“You’re young. You need to live.”
One comment after another, they wore me down. The idea, once unthinkable, started to shimmer with possibility.
My friends were women of action. That very night, they arranged for eight male models to appear at my penthouse suite at The Carlyle.
It was a sea of broad shoulders, long legs, and lean, sculpted abs. Each face was uniquely, devastatingly handsome.
I pointed vaguely at one with a tiny beauty mark just below the corner of his eye. “You.”
The others departed with theatrical sadness. The chosen one, whose name was Leo, knelt before me. He took a sip of champagne, cupped my face in his hands, and leaned in to kiss me.
The moment I saw my own reflection in his dark eyes, a different face flashed in my mind. Liam’s.
I snapped back to reality, pushing the young man away.
“Never mind,” I said, my voice hollow. “You can go, too.”
My mind a blur, I went home.
2
Liam Sterling had been a legend in our circles since we were kids.
First, because he was brilliant. He excelled at everything effortlessly, earning praise from our parents and sparking jealousy in our peers.
Second, because he was beautiful. A sharp jawline, intense eyes, the kind of face that could sell whiskey or break hearts. If he’d gone into acting, he’d have been a superstar on his looks alone.
So when I found out he was my intended, my first question was, “Why our family?”
The Vances and the Sterlings had never been particularly close.
But the word was that it was Liam’s grandfather, the old patriarch, who had pushed for the match. I understood immediately. It was a classic move to anchor a grandson, to keep him from running off with some unsuitable girl—his “one that got away.”
I wasn’t exactly losing out on the deal, so I agreed. Why not?
It was just that… seeing that face every day, it was hard not to feel a certain stirring.
I decided my rejection of the male model stemmed from a simple, stubborn thought: if I was going to sleep with someone, it had to be someone on Liam’s level.
So, I chose our one-year anniversary. I gave the household staff the day off and set up a candlelit dinner. I changed into a silk slip dress that clung to every curve.
The woman in the mirror was elegant, sensual. I couldn’t believe Liam would be indifferent.
But when he came home, his initial surprise quickly hardened into a frown. He scanned the rose petals scattered across the floor of the dining room and asked in a low, tight voice, “You did this? Where did you learn this from?”
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable, but I knew it wasn't pleasure. A cold sweat prickled my palms. My voice was barely a whisper. “I…”
Liam took a deep breath, visibly reining in his anger. “Go change,” he said, his voice sharp. “You should get some sleep. I have to go back to the office. I’ll call someone to clean this up.”
He turned and left. He didn’t come home for the next two weeks.
The embarrassment of that night, the raw humiliation, coiled around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. One night, I woke with a start, my hand instinctively reaching for the other side of the bed. It was empty. Cold.
In that moment, I made a decision.
“You want a divorce?”
Liam stared at the papers on the coffee table, his voice trembling slightly. “Why?”
Why? The list was a mile long. He never talked to me, he never slept with me, he cared if my trust fund was solvent but not if I was happy…
But most importantly, I knew that if this continued, I would inevitably fall for him. And I refused to waste my heart on someone who didn’t care about me.
I searched for a reason, then plucked one out of thin air. “I’m seeing someone.”
A man like Liam Sterling, I reasoned, couldn’t possibly tolerate the flagrant infidelity of his wife.
I doubled down, my voice firm. “I’m in love with someone else. I want to be with him.”
Silence. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Liam’s face was a tight mask. After a long moment, he spoke, his voice laced with acid. “In love? That’s not what you call it. You call it a home-wrecker.”
Huh? I guess he had a point. I nodded. “Okay, yes, you’re right. So I don’t want him to be the other man anymore. I want to make it official.”
I’d say anything to get this over with.
His eyes widened in disbelief. “You love him that much?”
Before I could answer, Liam just… broke.
“Cheating is between you and him! What does that have to do with me?” he burst out, his voice cracking.
“You should break up with him! Why are you divorcing me for it?”
“Did he put you up to this? Men out there are scum.”
“Wake up, Chloe! What kind of decent guy agrees to be the other man?”
“No! This is impossible. As long as I say no, he will never be anything but your dirty little secret. Let him dream!”
His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he were about to cry. I held out a tissue. “Liam, calm down.”
“Look, I know what I did was wrong, but… don’t just say no. Think about it. I won’t ask for a dollar more than what’s in the prenup. We don’t have kids. It’ll be clean.”
I tried to reason with him, my voice soft. “Think about it. Once we’re divorced, you’ll be free to be with your true love. No one in your family can force you into a marriage ever again. Isn’t that a win-win?”
He wasn’t buying it. He snatched the papers and ripped them in half, the sound echoing in the silent room. “Impossible. I’m not making room for him.”
Well, shit. The negotiations had failed.
3
How had that gone so wrong?
I was baffled, but it didn’t take long to come up with a theory. Over the past year, the Vance and Sterling corporations had launched several joint ventures. They were probably in a critical phase right now. A divorce would rock the boat, spook investors.
The potential losses would be astronomical.
I cursed myself for being so impulsive. Liam was clearly the more rational one.
His presence at home increased dramatically. Suddenly, he was everywhere.
If I was on the sofa sipping a smoothie, he’d be at the dining table with his laptop, pretending to work.
If I was watching a show on my tablet, he’d wander over, glance at the screen, and then walk away, seemingly satisfied.
When I tried baking some macarons, he stood guard at the kitchen entrance like a sentinel. “Are those for him?”
I frowned at the slightly browned edges of one tray. “This batch is a little burnt. Want one?”
He gritted his teeth. “So I only get the rejects?”
What was his problem? Of course I was giving him the burnt ones. I wasn’t going to eat them myself. I’m not an idiot.
“Fine, don’t eat it.” I moved toward the trash can, but he shot forward, intercepting my hand. He popped the macaron into his mouth.
“Did I say I didn’t want it?” he mumbled, chewing furiously. “Whatever he gets… (chew, chew)… I get too…”
He was eating so fast I was afraid he’d choke. I handed him my glass of juice. “Here, drink something.”
He took it, his eyes locked on mine, and drained the glass. A few drops escaped the corner of his mouth, tracing a path down his neck, over the bob of his Adam’s apple, and disappearing beneath the collar of his crisp white shirt.
He suddenly waved a hand in front of my face, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “So? I’m better looking than him, right?”
I blinked, snapping out of a trance. “Huh? Oh. Yeah, yeah.”
What did he just say? I had no idea. Just agreeing was the safest bet.
That night, when he got into bed, the mattress dipped. I instinctively shuffled away, only to meet his wounded gaze in the dim light.
“Do you have to be so far away?” he asked, his voice laced with hurt. “Do you hate me that much?”
What was he talking about?
We had to get divorced, yes, but there was no need for bad blood. Our families would still have to interact.
I quickly moved closer, trying to placate him. “No, of course not. Don’t overthink it. I’m not disgusted by you or anything.”
He turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. I held my breath, only to realize the man beside me was doing the same. The thought of us both lying there, silently suffocating, was so absurd that a laugh escaped me.
A moment later, Liam shifted. “Chloe?” he asked, his voice soft in the dark. “Can I… can I hold you?”
I hesitated.
But he didn’t wait for an answer. He shifted closer, sliding an arm around me. It was stiff, almost robotic, and he held me loosely, as if I were made of glass. He rested his head near my shoulder, his voice thick with emotion.
“Goodnight, Chloe.”
For the first time in a long time, I slept through the night. I’ve always been resilient; I can eat and sleep even if the world is ending.
When I woke up the next morning, his side of the bed was empty.
But on my nightstand, there was a note, his handwriting a powerful, elegant scrawl:
Urgent meeting at the office. Don’t go running around. Wait for me to come home.
4
I decided that meeting someone for coffee didn’t count as “running around.”
So I went, my conscience clear.
The text had arrived that morning: It’s Leo. I wanted to see you. Is that okay?
It took me a minute to place the name with the face from that night. The young, clean-cut model with the mole by his eye.
I called him.
His voice on the other end was electric with excitement. “You called me! You actually called me!”
“I got into college,” he rushed on. “NYU. Thank you so much for the money you gave me last time. Without you, I wouldn’t have even been able to take the SATs. I just… I want to thank you in person. Please?”
Leo was only eighteen. Cursed with a gambling-addicted father, a mother who’d died too young, and a little brother to care for. Loan sharks were harassing him constantly, and in his desperation, he’d turned to modeling.
The night I’d picked him was his first time.
After I’d pushed him away, his eyes had filled with tears. “If you send me back, they’ll kill me,” he’d whispered.
Getting rejected meant his fee would be docked, and he’d be in even deeper trouble. My heart softened. I transferred him a sum of money large enough to solve his immediate problems and told his agent to leave him alone and let him go back to school.
A boy that beautiful could easily be pulled into a much darker world.
Hearing he’d gotten into a good school filled me with a sense of genuine warmth. “Of course,” I said. “And congratulations.”
He chose a coffee shop downtown. As I arrived, I realized with a jolt that the Sterling Corp tower was just a few blocks away.
But Liam had left in such a hurry this morning. He wouldn’t have time for a casual coffee, right?
I shook my head, trying to dislodge him from my thoughts. We were getting a divorce. Why was I still thinking about him?
Leo had picked a table by the window with a great view. Dressed in a simple white t-shirt and light-wash jeans, his legs long and lean, he radiated a youthful energy that made me feel younger just by being near him.
“I didn't know what you like, so I didn't order,” he said, his cheeks flushing as he pushed the menu toward me. He was adorable.
I pointed to the cheapest coffee on the menu.
He noticed immediately. “Oh, please, order something else. Don’t worry about the price, I can afford it.”
“I’m working part-time,” he explained, his voice earnest. “I’m tutoring, and I wait tables. You don’t have to drink that. For someone like you to even come here is… I know this place is beneath you…”
His voice trailed off, and he looked down at the floor, mortified.
I patted his arm. “Don’t be silly. This is my favorite. And please, stop with the formal address. You can call me Chloe.”
His eyes lit up. “Really? Okay… Ch-Chloe.”
“Chloe Vance! You’re meeting him again!”
I spun around. It was Liam.
His face was thunderous, and behind him stood a procession of people in business suits, several of whom I vaguely recognized from his company.
Oh, great. I’d stumbled into their corporate coffee break.
A wave of guilt, completely unwarranted, washed over me.
Liam closed the distance in three long strides, pulling me behind him. He leaned down, his voice a low hiss in my ear. “We have an audience. Play along. Please?”
I glanced at the executives still frozen in place. As soon as my eyes met theirs, they quickly looked away, but not before I saw the undisguised hunger for gossip on their faces.
I understood. We couldn’t let them see any cracks in the facade.
“Okay,” I nodded meekly.
Liam’s glare was fixed on Leo. I quickly made an introduction. “This is Leo. He’s, um, a friend of mine.”
Liam actually laughed, a short, sharp sound. “A friend?”
He seemed to process something, and the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. He turned a condescending smile on Leo.
“You hear that, kid? She just thinks of you as a friend.”
“And what’s a friend? A revolving door. You get it? Sooner or later, she’s coming home to me.”
“Don’t think you can fool her by playing cute. It won’t work.”
“So, tell me. How much will it take to make you disappear?”
I was stunned. Leo was stunned. “What?”
5
What in the world had gotten into him? Before I could say anything, Liam’s hand found mine, his grip tight and possessive, like a mother hen protecting her chick.
Leo, who had clearly never been in a situation like this, went bright red. His eyes started to well up. “I… I wasn’t trying to fool her. I just wanted to say thank you.”
I couldn’t stand it. I pulled my hand free from Liam’s.
“Would you stop talking nonsense? Apologize to Leo. Now.”
Now it was Liam’s turn to look shocked. “Chloe, he’s playing the victim card. It’s manipulative.”
He was unbelievable. “Are you going to apologize or not? If not, I’m leaving with him.”
“Don’t.” Liam conceded, his cheeks puffed out like a goldfish. He mumbled a reluctant, “Sorry.”
Then, as if a thought just struck him, he straightened up. “Wait a minute. He’s trying to steal my wife. Why am I the one saying sorry?!”
This was getting more ridiculous by the second. Leo, finally catching on, started bowing repeatedly. “It’s okay, no, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Chloe, I should go.”
Before he left, he pushed a small, wrapped box into my hand. “This is for you. Really, thank you so much.”
With me acting as a shield, Leo made his escape.
I looked at Liam’s employees, their faces alight with the thrill of corporate gossip, and sighed. The damage was done. They’d all seen this deeply dysfunctional scene.
Giving up, I dropped into a chair and looked up at him. “What are you doing here? I thought you were busy. Busy drinking coffee?” I huffed, my annoyance clear.
So, he had been lying to me. The “urgent meeting” was a sham. Just as I thought. A business arrangement, and a husband full of lies. The coffee in my cup suddenly tasted bitter.
But Liam, inexplicably, seemed to be in a fantastic mood. “The meeting’s over. I was treating them to a break.” He waved his team over, but when they approached, he said, “Go on, order whatever you want. I’ll expense it later. My wife missed me, so I’m staying with her.”
Excuse me? Who missed him? Definitely not me.
An employee gushed, “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling are so devoted to each other.”
“Haha, thank you, Mrs. Sterling! Looks like we’re going to run up quite a tab on the boss’s card.”
Why were they thanking me? I wasn’t paying. Although, I guess half of Liam’s money was mine, so it made sense.
“Mrs. Sterling is so beautiful. No wonder the boss talks about you all the time.”
“It’s true! We’re all so envious of you, Mr. Sterling.”
What did they just say? Liam talks about me all the time?
Liam cleared his throat loudly, cutting them off. “Ahem, alright, that’s enough. Get going, your adoration is blinding me.”
After they scattered, I stared at Liam’s clearly guilty face, and something clicked into place.
He started to fidget under my gaze. “Chloe, I, uh, I mention you because…”
“Liam,” I said, my voice flat. “Is the person you’re in love with working at your company?”
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