After Seven Empty Chairs, I Took My Daughter and Left Chapter 12

After Seven Empty Chairs, I Took My Daughter and Left Chapter 12

The anger of being blocked soon subsided, replaced by a condescending confusion. Noah sat on the sofa for a while before his gaze finally landed on the deep navy document box he had casually placed on the entry cabinet.

Ava’s birthday gift.

He stood, took the box to the study, and set it beneath the soft halo of the desk lamp. His fingertips paused on the elegant lid, feeling its cool surface. This didn’t seem like Ava’s style. Her gifts were always practical: a tie, a pair of cuff links. Never something so formal, packed in a document box fit for legal papers.

Curiosity overcame irritation. He sat in the leather armchair and was just about to open the clasp when his phone vibrated abruptly on the desk. The name “Sloane” lit up on the screen like a bolt of cold lightning, splitting the quiet air of the study.

Noah’s hand froze above the box.

“Noah, are you home?” Her voice on the other end was hoarse from a hangover and carried a barely noticeable tremor.

“Just got back. What’s wrong, Sloane?” His voice softened by instinct as he drew his hand away from the document box.

“I… I’m scared. I’m all alone,” she said, sounding wronged and dependent. “I had a nightmare. When I woke up, you weren’t there. Why didn’t you stay with me?”

Listening to Sloane’s soft, tearful complaint, the last bit of irritation about being blocked vanished from Noah’s heart. He immediately stood, his other hand already grabbing the cashmere coat draped over the chair and his car keys.

“I’ll be right there. Don’t be afraid. Wait for me.”

He almost ran out of the study, leaving the deep navy document box lying quietly under the light behind him, like a forgotten secret.

By the time Noah arrived at Sloane’s Back Bay apartment, dawn was breaking. He coaxed the frightened Sloane back to sleep, then lay down fully dressed on the living room sofa.

When he woke again, it was afternoon. Bright sunlight streamed through the slats of the blinds, sharp enough to sting his eyes. Sloane had just come out of the bathroom, wearing only a silk robe, her damp hair falling over her shoulders. She saw Noah sitting on the sofa, still a little dazed.

Without the slightest hesitation, she walked straight over and sat beside him, handing him a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

“Noah, make me some breakfast. I’m hungry.”

Her tone was so natural it was as if they had lived this way for years.

Noah accepted the coffee, looked away from her, and walked toward the open kitchen. He opened the refrigerator with practiced ease and took out eggs and bacon.

When he placed the fried breakfast on the table, Sloane had already dried her hair. She looked at him, and he finally spoke, though not to thank her.

“About what you said at the party yesterday…” Noah began hesitantly. He had to figure out what those “divorce papers” were about.

Sloane cut him off.

“My confession to you wasn’t impulsive, Noah.” She set down her knife and fork, leaned forward with both hands on the table, and stared at him with burning eyes. “From now on, I’m your girlfriend.”

She stood, rounded the table, and sat directly in his lap. Her arms hooked around his neck, her warm breath brushing his ear.

“So, Noah,” she said in a voice full of temptation, “what do you want to do to your girlfriend?”

Noah’s body stiffened. He didn’t respond to her seduction. Instead, he pressed on stubbornly.

“No, Sloane. What I want to ask is, when did Ava and I get divorced? I can’t reach her now.”

The smile on Sloane’s face cooled instantly. She sat up in his lap, her tone carrying incredulous anger.

“I thought you’d be overjoyed that we’re finally together. Ava? Isn’t she just your backup option for when I wasn’t around? Now that I’m back, you’re mine. Why are you still bothering with someone so unimportant?”