Divorce Papers

Aurelia,

Suddenly, time moved so fast that I couldn’t even breathe properly. Just yesterday, at this very hour, Dad was talking to me, asking me to cook his favorite porridge. Today, he wasn’t there. Only his lifeless body lay still, alone, unmoving, as if the warmth had been drained out of the world with him.

I barely managed to put on the black dress. It clung to my curves, squeezing me so tightly it felt like it was suffocating me. I had never hated the color black this much before. The fabric pressed against my chest, making every breath shallow, every inhale feel like a struggle.

Just as I wiped the tears from my face, a knock on the door made me turn. Mrs. Windsor stood there. Justin’s mother.

I didn’t know she had been informed.

“My sweetheart,” she whispered, rushing toward me and pulling me into her arms. “I am so sorry.”

She held me tightly, rubbing my back as if she could soothe the ache lodged deep inside my chest. My lips trembled despite my effort to keep them still. A broken sound escaped me, somewhere between a whimper and a sob, as my body shuddered against her. Even then, even in that moment, I hated myself for wishing it was him holding me instead. Shamelessly, helplessly, I wished it was Justin.

“Miss Aurelia, it’s time,” Butler Derek informed softly after knocking on the door.

Mrs. Windsor slowly broke the hug and cupped my face, her eyes filled with pain. “I’m sorry. Justin might not know yet. He’s on a flight.”

Flight?

I had thought that at least after hearing it from the media, he would acknowledge my father’s death. A call. A message. Something.

But this time, I didn’t feel anything. No sharp pain, no disappointment. Just a quiet emptiness. He was no longer someone I wanted to wait for.

I nodded without replying and followed Butler Derek to the funeral. I stood there quietly and said goodbye to my best friend, my father, and the only person who had ever known my entire world.

After the funeral, Mom had to be admitted to the hospital. With Dad gone, everything felt unfamiliar, like stepping into a world stripped of direction. We were lost, as if someone had twisted the path ahead and left us wandering without a destination.

Even then, I wanted someone to lean on. But I couldn’t. Mom looked fragile and distant, relatives and friends demanded answers, and I stood there wondering how I was supposed to survive this unbearable pain.

Justin didn’t call. Not once. He didn’t ask anything. I didn’t know why I still hoped. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was habit. But somewhere in the back of my mind, hope lingered quietly, refusing to die.

Later,

“The will has been clearly prepared by Mr. Carlton and has requested no contest,” Attorney Wilde said as he opened the document. “Mrs. Carlton, this house and his personal accounts are yours. Mr. Carlton deeply appreciated your love, loyalty, and support through the years.”

Mom didn’t react. She simply stared at her hands, her fingers resting lifelessly in her lap.

I gently squeezed her hand. “Is there anything you want, Mom? I’ll make sure you get everything.”

She shook her head and leaned against my shoulder. “Don’t leave me alone,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“I will never,” I assured her, tears burning my eyes.

“Mrs. Wren,” Attorney Wilde said, finally turning to me. “Mr. Carlton has left you his company and other estates under your name. He entrusted you to handle the company well. He also left two additional accounts, including two trust funds intended for your future children.”

He didn’t read the rest aloud. Instead, he handed us copies of the will, along with a list of people my father had advised me to avoid in the long run.

The will was short, but it was clear.

After discussing the legal transfers and documents, I helped my mother rest after she signed everything. Once she fell asleep, I stepped outside and found Attorney Wilde waiting.

“You wanted to speak with me. Is now a good time?” he asked.

I nodded, glancing once more at my sleeping mother. “Along with the other documents, prepare divorce papers. I’m divorcing Mr. Justin Windsor.”

His expression shifted in surprise. “Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

I turned toward the staircase, heading to my father’s study. He followed me, his expression tense.

“And give the papers to me first.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and nodded. He had been our family lawyer since my father built his success. He knew better than to question my decision.

The rest of the days passed in a blur. Mrs. Windsor visited often, never mentioning Justin. I didn’t know where he was, and she didn’t defend him either.

One week after my father’s passing, Justin finally returned.

Attorney Wilde offered to deliver the papers himself, but I stopped him. I would end my own marriage.

As I walked into the company with my bodyguards behind me, the receptionist tried to say something but stopped herself. She didn’t dare. Even if he hadn’t acknowledged me, everyone knew who I was.

The whole world knew I was the new chairperson and CEO.

“Mrs. Windsor,” Finn, Justin’s personal secretary, said in confusion as I approached his office. “The boss came back last night. Where have you been?”

I didn’t answer. I pushed the door open.

Justin sat behind his desk, sipping coffee while reviewing files. He didn’t look up.

“I told you not to disturb me,” he said coldly.

“It’s me,” I replied.

He snapped his gaze up, eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

“You love your work more than your own wife, don’t you?” I asked, even though I knew I was wasting my breath.

He adjusted his glasses and returned his attention to the documents. “If you’re here to talk nonsense, we’ll do it later.”

“No need for later.” I placed the documents firmly on his desk. “Sign it.”

His eyes finally moved to the papers. His jaw tightened. “What is this?”

“Divorce papers. Sign them. We’re done.”

He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. His presence loomed, cold and controlled. “Why?” he demanded. “This wasn’t the deal.”

“Deal?” I scoffed. “Is our marriage a contract to you?”

His eyes darkened. “You’re overreacting. Is it about your Dad? I am sorry, Okay? I will visit him soon”

My eyes widened. He would visit Dad? Did he not know that...? My took a sharp deep breath, feeling my throat closing up.

“I’m not a schedule you can rearrange,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Don’t mention my father. I am your wife, not a task you pencil in between meetings.”

“I never said that,” he replied sharply. “You shouldn’t have married me if you couldn’t handle my workload.”

I met his gaze without flinching. “You are right. Marrying you was the worst mistake I have done. Until you sign those papers and deal with my lawyer, we are legally separated.”

“I don’t have time for this,” he said coldly. “I’ll be home early. We’ll talk properly.”

I didn’t answer. I turned and walked away, my steps firm, my back straight.

I was done.