Chapter 6 - THE DIVORCE PAPERS
They named the baby Grace.
Carrie chose it.
Dominic did not object.
Grace Marino spent twenty-three days in the NICU.
Dominic visited every day.
So did Carrie.
But they rarely visited together.
He learned her schedule and deliberately came at different times.
That surprised Carrie.
The old Dominic would have forced proximity.
The new one—if there was a new one—seemed to understand boundaries.
On Grace’s twelfth day, Carrie found an envelope beside the incubator.
Inside were signed divorce papers.
Dominic had signed everything Amelia requested.
Carrie stared at the final page.
No fight over the house.
No attempt to hide assets.
No custody threat.
No financial pressure.
He had even transferred the Westchester estate into a trust for Grace, with Carrie as sole trustee.
There was a handwritten note.
I spent years believing providing for you was the same as valuing you. It wasn’t.
I won’t use money to make leaving me difficult.
D.
Carrie sat beside Grace and cried quietly.
Not because she wanted the divorce.
Because for the first time, Dominic was making it possible.
Vanessa accepted a federal cooperation agreement.
Victor Salazar faced kidnapping, fraud, conspiracy, money laundering and attempted obstruction charges.
The financial scandal exploded publicly.
Marino Holdings stock plunged.
Reporters surrounded headquarters.
Board members demanded Dominic resign.
He did.
Without argument.
At the emergency board meeting, Dominic stood at the head of the table.
“I ignored internal controls.”
One director interrupted.
“You were manipulated.”
Dominic looked at him.
“I was arrogant.”
Silence.
“I overrode qualified analysis because I preferred advice that agreed with me. I allowed a personal relationship to compromise judgment.”
Rebecca watched from the far end.
Dominic continued.
“The responsibility is mine.”
No excuses.
No Vanessa.
No Carrie.
Just his failure.
His resignation passed unanimously.
Three months later, Carrie stood in a rented office in White Plains.
A brass plaque had just been installed.
WHITAKER ADVISORY GROUP
Walter examined it.
“Crooked.”
Carrie laughed.
“It’s perfectly straight.”
“I managed an estate for twenty-seven years. I know crooked.”
Maria arrived carrying Grace.
The baby had grown beautifully.
“Your employee is hungry.”
“I’m not paying her.”
Maria gasped.
“Labor violation.”
Carrie took Grace.
For the first time in years, Carrie had built something with her own name.
Rebecca became her first client.
Then two former Marino Holdings partners called.
Then five.
Carrie discovered something startling.
She was good.
Not “good for someone’s wife.”
Not “helpful.”
Good.
Very good.
Within six months, Whitaker Advisory employed twelve people.
Carrie bought a modest house twenty minutes from her office.
Three bedrooms.
A small garden.
A kitchen she loved.
She paid for it herself.
The first night there, she stood in Grace’s nursery and realized she had stopped missing the mansion.
She had not stopped missing Dominic.
That annoyed her.
Dominic rented an apartment in Manhattan.
He sold his controlling stake in Marino Holdings.
He entered therapy.
He apologized to every employee who had resigned.
Walter accepted the apology.
He did not accept a job.
“I work for Carrie now.”
Dominic almost smiled.
“I assumed.”
Daniel occasionally drove Grace between visits.
Dominic always asked about Carrie.
Daniel always answered:
“She’s fine.”
Nothing more.
One Saturday, Dominic arrived to collect Grace.
Carrie opened the door.
He froze.
She wore jeans and an old Columbia sweatshirt, her blonde hair tied carelessly behind her head.
She looked younger.
Happier.
It hurt.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
Grace squealed when she saw him.
Dominic smiled.
“Hey, trouble.”
Carrie handed him the diaper bag.
“Bottle schedule is inside.”
“I know.”
“Her pediatrician said—”
“Carrie.”
She stopped.
“I know.”
Their eyes met.
He smiled faintly.
“I’ve been doing this six months.”
“Right.”
An awkward silence.
Then Dominic noticed a man inside the kitchen.
Tall.
Brown-haired.
Holding two coffee cups.
Something primitive flashed across Dominic’s face.
Carrie saw it.
Almost laughed.
“This is Dr. Evan Bennett.”
Dominic blinked.
“Bennett?”
“My doctor’s brother.”
Evan approached.
“Nice to meet you.”
Dominic shook his hand like it had personally offended him.
“You too.”
Carrie bit the inside of her cheek.
Dominic looked between them.
“Are you—”
Carrie raised an eyebrow.
He stopped.
Not his business.
The realization visibly tortured him.
“Never mind.”
He carried Grace toward the car.
Carrie watched him go.
Evan handed her coffee.
“Your ex-husband looks like he wants to murder my latte.”
Carrie laughed.
“He’ll survive.”
Evan glanced toward Dominic.
“You sure?”
“No.”
Dominic placed Grace into her car seat.
Then he looked back.
Carrie was laughing with Evan.
Jealousy burned through him.
Old Dominic would have investigated Evan before reaching the highway.
New Dominic opened the driver’s door.
Sat down.
Closed it.
And muttered:
“Growth is terrible.”
From the back seat, Grace laughed.
Dominic looked at her in the mirror.
“Don’t take her side.”
May you like
Grace laughed harder.
For the first time in months, Dominic did too.
