The Weight Of Leaving by Riven Kade novel Chapter 59

Chapter 19: Ghosts in the Mirror

Rain wept against the study window.

The TV screen glowed, a financial news anchor’s voice cutting through the gloom:

[Rising star Nadia Sterling claims Lume Ateliers Gold Medal! Her ‘Stardust‘ brand valuation soars past $14.04 million USD]

Footage flashed: Nova Sterling, radiant in white silk, accepting the award. Her eyes held starlight. Confidence flowed from

her like a current.

“The key to success?” A reporter’s mic hovered. Nova’s smile was serene. “First, learn to love yourself.”

Zane’s fingers clenched. A tremor ran through his hand.

“In related news, Ms. Sterling’s newly established. ‘Song Foundation‘ empowers marginalized female entrepreneurs. Over

300 women have achieved financial independence through…”

The voice faded into static.

Zane stumbled to his feet. Down the hall. To her room. Sealed for months.

The door creaked open. The ghost of jasmine lingered–a scent she’d loved.

Her half–empty hand cream sat on the vanity. Forgotten loungewear hung in the closet.

Zane reached out, fingers brushing soft cashmere–a beige sweater. Her scent still clung faintly to the fibers.

Memory ambushed him. Three winters ago. Midnight. He’d found her asleep on the sofa, wrapped in this very sweater.

She’d blinked awake, eyes soft with sleep, murmuring, “You’re home.” She’d hurried to the kitchen to reheat bone broth…

and burned her hand on the pot.

How often had she waited? How often had he walked past her care?

The front door crashed downstairs.

The butler’s voice, strained, ‘Master Zane… The bankers. Again. They’ll initiate asset seizure next week if…

Zane waved a dismissive hand Alone again, he collapsed onto her vanity stool. The mirror reflected a stranger–hollow eyes, unkempt stubble. The titan was gone.

His phone buzzed Director Mitchel:

[Zane. Watched you grow up. A final warning Board voted. Your chairmanship ends next week. Prepare)

A bitter laugh escaped him. His gaze snagged on a corner of paper peeking from the vanity drawer,

Inside lay a leather–bound journal.

Nova’s elegant script filled every page:

Chapter 19: Ghosts in the Mirror

March 15: Zane’s stomach pain flared. Remind cook: bone broth daily.

May 20: Pollen season. Antihistamines in all car gloveboxes.

July 8: Anniversary. Found the Cartier cufflinks he admired.

The final entry, one week before the divorce:

Tomorrow: His birthday. The Patek Philippe finally arrived. Black Forest cake ordered–less sugar, NO peanuts. Pray they

remember his allergies… when I’m gone.

Zane’s vision blurred.

That birthday. The watch he’d callously trashed for Ivy’s sake… Had he even registered it was the exact limited edition

he’d once casually praised?

Sudden applause erupted from the TV.

He looked up. Nova faced a phalanx of international reporters..

“Ms. Sterling,” a journalist asked, “Your previous marriage–did it hinder your career?”

Nova’s smile held no bitterness, only wisdom. “It was essential. It taught me the paramount lesson- Never surrender

your soul for anyone.”

Zane slammed the remote, the screen died with a fractured crack

Silence. Only the rain’s relentless drumming remained.

He stared at his hollow reflection, suddenly seeing her back as she walked away that final day–unbending, irrevocable.

When had she truly decided to leave?

When he’d offered his marrow for Ivy’s lie? When he’d abandoned her for Ivy’s whims? When his mother’s cane had

lashed her back?

Outside, the storm intensified.

The manor’s power failed. Darkness swallowed the room.

Zane sat motionless in the blackness at her vanity. His hand rose, brushing something cold and wet on his cheek

He finally understood:

The universe’s cruelest punishment wasn’t bankruptcy. Or betrayal.

It was clarity arriving too late–seeing the woman who once worshiped the ground you walked on become a thriving.

beacon… forever out of reach.

Yet he refused surrender. Remembering, remembering how fiercely she’d loved him–how could she discard him over

trifles?

Chapter 19 Ghosts in the Mirror

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Chapter 20: Dignity’s Reckoning

“Nova, the meeting with the LVMH representatives is at ten this morning, and the fashion week appointment is at three

this afternoon. The materials are ready. Anything else you need?” the assistant inquired.

Nova was about to reply when she stopped abruptly. Her steps halted as she frowned at the all–too–familiar figure

standing at the reception desk.

Zane Blackthorn stood there, clad in a rumpled suit, two coffee cups clutched in his hands. Deep, bruise–like shadows

hung beneath his eyes. Yet, the moment he saw her, the dullness vanished from his gaze, replaced by a sudden, desperate

light.

“Nova,” he said, stepping forward quickly, mustering a strained smile. “I remember you like lattes. Double syrup.” He held

out one cup.

Nova’s eyes lingered on the proffered coffee for a mere second before her lips curved into a sharp, mocking smile. “I like?

Isn’t that Ivy Callahan’s preference?”

His hand jerked into stillness in the air.

“What do you want?” Nova signaled her assistant to go ahead, making no move to invite him inside. “I’m on a tight

schedule.”

“I… I just wanted to talk,” Zane implored, desperation raw in his eyes. “Just ten minutes.”

Talk about what?” Nova crossed her arms, her posture radiating cold dismissal. “About how you gambled away the last

shred of the Blackthorn fortune? Or about your ‘true love‘ who embezzled funds and fled? Sorry, neither topic interests

me.”

Suddenly, he grabbed her wrist. “I know I was wrong… Nova, I’m here to apologize. Please, give me another chance?”

Nova wrenched her hand free with a sharp jerk. A brittle laugh escaped her. “Oh, now you come begging. Mr. Blackthorn?

What did you say back then when I warned you about Ivy Callahan?” She gave him a slow, deliberate once–over, her

voice dripping with sarcasm as she mimicked him,“Ivy is innocent, she’d never do such a thing‘?”

Zane’s already pale face drained of any remaining color. “I was blinded! But I swear, nothing substantial ever happened

between us!”

“That.’ Nova stated, turning to leave, ‘is irrelevant to me. Move. I’m going to be late.”

“Wait!” Zane blocked her path, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “We had good times too–why only remember

the worst? Don’t you remember? That year you had a fever? I stayed with you at the hospital all night. And your

birthday? I canceled meetings just to take you to-

Nova’s laugh slashed through his words, cold and sharp You stayed because Ivy complained of chest pain that night You pulled my doctor away for her. She took a step closer, her gaze piercing And Val de Rêve? You booked tickets knowing

she’d be there. My birthday was just your excuse.!”

Zane’s lips trembled. Panic flared in his eyes. I… I admit I was a jerk sometimes. But the good times the things I did for

Chapter 20: Dignity’s Reckoning

you… they weren’t all lies…”

“The good things?” Nova looked down at him, her expression glacial. “You mean giving me the necklace Ivy Callahan

didn’t want? Or standing outside her apartment building all Christmas Eve night?”

Zane was speechless. His hand fluttered weakly, grasping at the hem of her jacket. “But… but I truly know I was wrong

now… I love you…”

“Love?” Nova snapped, violently shaking off his grip and stepping back to put distance between them. “Zane Blackthorn.

the only person you’ve ever loved is yourself. This groveling act? It’s only because the Blackthorn Group is drowning and

needs the Sterling connections to bail it out.”

“No!” Zane protested desperately. “It’s not about the company! We loved each other! Why won’t you admit—”

In one swift, decisive motion, Nova snatched the coffee cup he’d set aside and flung its contents squarely into his face.

Dark liquid splattered over his features, streaming down his chin and soaking into the expensive fabric of his suit. A gasp

erupted from the receptionist.

“Crystal clear now?” Nova’s voice was glacial. “This pathetic display, Mr. Blackthorn, is utterly revolting.”

Zane slumped to the floor, coffee dripping from his lashes. He stared, dazed, at the rigid line of her retreating back. A

memory surged, unbidden: a much younger Nova, red–eyed but forcing a smile after he’d thrown a glass of cold water in

her face. “It’s okay,” she’d whispered then.

Now, she didn’t grant him even a backward glance.

Her assistant jogged to catch up as Nova reached the elevator. “Nova, should I call security?”

“No need.” Nova replied, stabbing the elevator button without turning. Just an irrelevant person. The elevator doors slid

shut, sealing him out of her world.

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