Ravyn froze. The thought had crossed his mind before, more than once, actually. He had lived under the same roof with Seraphine for years without touching her, existing like polite strangers bound only by a marriage certificate.
It had been a cold, deliberate arrangement, one that would allowed both of them to move through life separately while maintaining appearances.
When he had finally brought up the idea of formalizing that separation, of continuing as husband and wife only on paper, Seraphine had refused.
At the time, Ravyn had been too embarrassed to push. After all, he was the one who had asked for the divorce. Pressing further would have felt hypocritical, almost desperate, and he had swallowed the conversation whole, burying it where pride and regret lived side by side.
Now, standing in front of Daisy, he couldn't bring himself to say the truth out loud. "Seraphine isn't stupid. She'll know I'm doing it for the money."
