Reborn: This Time, I'm Divorcing Him First novel · Chapter 2 of 32

Chapter 2: One Suitcase

Margaret slaps Natalie in front of the caterers, and Natalie takes off her ring, asks for a divorce, and walks out with one suitcase.

Nathaniel laughed.

Not a big laugh. A small, tired one.

That laugh was the thing I remembered most from my first life.

He never hit me. He never cheated with his body.

He just laughed.

You're being paranoid, Natalie.

She's like a sister to me, Natalie.

Natalie's been so emotional lately.

He said it so often that everyone we knew started saying it too.

"You sound insane," he said now. "I've read her charts. I've sat in Dr. Pierce's office with her."

"Have you seen her on dialysis?"

"She does it at the clinic."

"Have you ever been there when she does?"

He picked up his phone instead of answering.

"I'm not doing this. Mom and Camille are coming at six. We're having dinner to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

"You saying yes."

He walked out of the kitchen.

He'd planned the party before he even asked me.

At six the caterers were setting up in our dining room.

Candles. White roses. A cake with a little sugar kidney on top.

Margaret came in first, in her camel coat and pearls.

She handed me her coat without looking at me.

Camille came in behind her, leaning on Nathaniel's arm.

She wore cream cashmere and no makeup except a gray-toned powder that made her look ill.

She coughed softly into her fist.

"Natalie," she whispered. She held out her arms. "Thank you. I don't know how to thank you."

I didn't hug her.

"Nathaniel didn't tell you?"

The room went quiet.

A caterer stopped with a tray of champagne in her hands.

"I'm not donating," I said.

Camille's eyes filled up on cue.

Margaret turned slowly toward me.

"Say that again."

"I'm not donating. And Camille doesn't need it."

"How dare you."

"Camille," I said. "Hold out your left arm."

She blinked. "What?"

"Stage five patients on dialysis have a fistula. A lump in the arm where the vein and artery are joined. You can feel it buzz."

I nodded at her soft cream sleeves.

"Push up your sleeve."

She pulled her arms against her chest.

"Or show me your catheter. Your ankles aren't swollen. Your skin isn't gray under that powder. You walked in here in heels."

Camille made a small, broken sound and turned her face into Nathaniel's shoulder.

Margaret crossed the room in three steps and slapped me.

My head snapped to the side.

The caterer with the tray gasped.

"She is dying," Margaret hissed. "And you stand in my son's house and mock her?"

My cheek burned.

In my first life, I apologized to her for that slap.

I cried and said I didn't mean it.

Nathaniel was rubbing Camille's back.

He looked at me over her head.

"Apologize to her, Natalie. Right now."

"No."

"Apologize to Camille and to my mother."

The whole room was watching. Two caterers. A bartender. A florist on a ladder.

I twisted my wedding ring off my finger.

It stuck at the knuckle. I pulled harder until it came free.

I set it on the table next to the kidney cake.

"I want a divorce."

Camille stopped crying.

Just for one second.

Long enough for me to see her eyes go bright.

Then she was sobbing again.

"This is my fault. Nathaniel, don't let her do this because of me."

"She's not doing anything," Nathaniel said. "She's having a tantrum."

I went upstairs.

I pulled my old residency duffel out of the back of the closet.

It still had my name on a strip of tape.

I packed scrubs, jeans, three sweaters, my stethoscope, and the passport in my own name.

Everything else in that closet had been bought for an Ashworth wife.

I left all of it.

When I came back down, the dinner had started without me.

Camille was in my chair.

Margaret was cutting her a slice of cake.

Nathaniel stood when he saw the bag.

"Put that back."

"No."

He followed me to the elevator.

"Think about this. You signed a prenup. You walk out that door, you walk out with nothing."

"I know."

"You don't have a job. You don't have money. You haven't worked in three years."

The elevator doors opened.

"Where exactly are you going to go?"

I stepped inside and turned around.

"Back to work."

The doors started to close.

Nathaniel caught one with his hand and they shuddered open again.

His face was white.

"Nobody will hire you," he said. "I'll make sure of it."

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