The day I was discharged, my lawyer brought good news.
Zachary had signed the divorce papers.
I felt like I could finally breathe again.
At last, this nightmare was over.
Ava suggested a trip to Nice in France, saying it was "practically heaven on earth."
She was right—wounded hearts need somewhere beautiful to heal.
Walking out of the courthouse, I felt lighter than I had in years.
I didn't ask for anything that wasn't rightfully mine, but I made damn sure to get everything that was.
I glanced at Zachary beside me, he looked completely broken. Anxious. Defeated.
Nothing like the confident man I'd married.
"Ella, is this really it for us? No second chances?"
"That's right. We're done."
I studied his face, remembering how nervous he'd been when he first asked me out all those years ago.
But I wasn't that starry-eyed girl anymore.
A cracked mirror can never reflect a perfect image again.
Zachary and I—our story had reached its final page.
"Then... could you ever forgive—"
