Madeline had hoped to avoid Colton until the divorce agreement was officially signed.
But life had a way of throwing curveballs.
The very next day, she ran into him at the International Climbing Championships.
He was there with a delegation from the Army’s Special Warfare Center, evaluating whether rock climbing could be incorporated into
elite training programs.
Dressed in sleek climbing gear, Madeline moved across the wall with the speed and grace of a predator. Her core was steel–strong, her
sun–bronzed skin slick with sweat.
She dominated the competition, claiming the championship without breaking a stride.
Colton’s aide, Mark Davis, gaped at the scoreboard. “General, is that Madeline? Damn–her climbing speed could give our best
operators a run for their money.”
Colton lowered his binoculars, his jaw tightening.
Around him, spectators were snapping photos, a whistle cut through the air, and someone shouted, “Maddie, you’re killing it!”
There she was–perched on the summit, arms high in triumph, vibrant and fierce. A woman he barely recognized anymore.
After the event, the organizers led him over for introductions. Madeline didn’t miss a beat. She looked him straight in the eye, her tone polite and distant. “General Hayes. Your reputation precedes you.”
His expression stayed carved from stone. The silence stretched.
Then a familiar voice broke in.
“Colt, you ready? Let’s head back to Fort Sentinel for dinner. I’m craving that clam chowder your cook makes.”
Madeline turned to see Vanessa Cole step down from a military Humvee, strolling over with the ease of someone who belonged there. She slid her arm through Colton’s as naturally as breathing.
Vanessa barely spared Madeline more than a quick, dismissive smile–like she wasn’t even competition worth acknowledging.
As the two of them walked off, someone nearby muttered, “He even brings his wife along on assignments–guess they’re inseparable.”
Mark, still lingering, shot Madeline a sidelong look. It wasn’t cruel exactly, but it carried a quiet judgment–half pity, half disbelief.
Madeline said nothing. She simply left the venue and, once outside, pulled out her phone.
Her first call was to the County Clerk’s Office to check on the processing of the divorce agreement.
“How much longer?” she asked.
“Seven days,” the clerk replied.
“Seven days,” Madeline repeated, her voice steady. “I’ve survived five years. I can survive seven more days.”
That fragile sense of control lasted less than an hour.
Her phone rang again–Mark.
“The general wants to know if you’re sending anything over for dinner,” he said. “Also, Ethan’s teacher said she hasn’t been able to reach you. His art project for this week still hasn’t been turned in. Could you drop it off?”
Madeline’s mind flashed back to the nights before she left–sitting at the kitchen table with Ethan, carefully helping him piece that project together, one small detail at a time. She’d walked away before it was finished.
She tilted her head back, watching clouds drift, free and unbound.
Chapter 2
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Chapter 2
3
“Tell him there’s nothing coming,” she said, her voice calm but final. “Not now, not ever. And I’m done with anything to do with Ethan’s assignments. Don’t call me again.”
She hung up, blocked Mark’s number, and kept walking.
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