Chapter 2

Darlene's POV

The next morning, I called Lena Sweeney. She was my college roommate and currently specialized in family law at a firm.

"Lena, can you help me draft a divorce agreement?"

There were three seconds of silence on the other end.

"...Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Did Bernard cheat on you?"

"Not yet." I paused. "But he's about to."

She didn't press further and only said she'd email me the draft that afternoon.

After hanging up, I sat on the balcony and stared into space for a while.

At noon, Bernard texted to say a meeting had come up last minute and told me to grab lunch without him.

I heated up yesterday's leftovers and sat alone at the dining table. Halfway through the meal, my phone buzzed again.

It was a WhatsApp message from a number I hadn't saved.

"Hi, Mrs. Hoffman. Tammy here. I'm so sorry for intruding like that yesterday. Mr. Hoffman is seriously so great. No wonder he managed to marry such a beautiful wife as you. I'll treat you both to dinner next time to make it up to you."

Attached at the end was a winking face with tongue out emoji.

Every single sentence was flawless. The message was warm, polite, and struck just the right note of propriety.

I replied with a brief "No worries" and locked the screen.

At 3:00 pm, Lena's email arrived.

I downloaded the divorce agreement onto my phone and read through it, clause by clause.

Bernard and I had no children and no shared debts. As for the property and division of assets, we would each take what was ours.

It was all clean and simple, as if our five years together had been nothing more than two people just sharing a roof.

I was still reading when a noise came from the bedroom doorway.

Bernard had come back earlier than expected.

I quickly swiped the email closed and locked my phone screen.

"Why are you back so early today?"

"The meeting wrapped up early."

He loosened his tie as he walked over. Then, he bent down and planted a kiss on my forehead.

"You don't look too good. Didn't you sleep well?"

"Yeah."

He let out an "oh" and asked no further questions. Instead, he turned around and went into the study, closing the door behind him.

I heard him speaking on the phone inside, his voice deliberately low.

I walked over to the entryway. His suit jacket hung on the coat rack, still carrying the chill from outside.

The moment my fingers touched the cuff of his shirt, images flooded in.

Bernard was in his own office, the one with the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Tammy stood behind him, one hand braced on the back of his chair, the other pointing at the computer screen.

The two of them were so close that when she spoke, her breath grazed his ear.

"Mr. Hoffman, look at this section. I've revised it three times already. Could you help me see which version is the best?"

Bernard didn't lean forward, nor did he shift sideways to create some distance. Instead, he tilted his head back naturally, his gaze moving from the screen to her face.

"The second version. The data logic flows better."

Tammy smiled, her dimples showing and her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I knew you'd pick the second one! Mr. Hoffman, our tastes are so similar."

The scene shifted, and it was still the same office.

Bernard's phone screen lit up. The caller ID read "Honey".

It was the call I had made to him at noon.

He glanced at it, his brow furrowing slightly with an unconscious flicker of irritation.

He declined the call, then lowered his head and continued going over the proposal with Tammy.

"You can add a competitive analysis page here. I'll teach you how to pull the data model," he said, his tone gentler than before.

Tammy nodded obediently and pulled a chair over to sit right next to him.

Their shoulders were almost touching.

The images dissolved.

I hung his shirt back on the rack, my fingertips trembling faintly.

Bernard had frowned and declined my call without a second thought, as if he were swatting away a mosquito. Then, he had turned to another woman, his face softening.

After five years of marriage, seeing my name light up on his phone had become an annoyance to him.

That evening, I opened the email again and saved the divorce agreement to the notes on my phone. Then, in the signature field, I traced out my name.

I practiced it twice, because I wanted to make sure my hand remained steady on the day he signed it.