004 | ELARA ELLIS

Adrian is in the living room when I walk in.

The sound of my heels clicking against the tiled floor is audible over the roaring of my pulse in my ears, and my fingers tighten around the edge of the envelope I’m holding. My palms are sweaty, but the more I move further into the room. I don’t rush my steps, and neither do I hesitate. I already cried enough for a lifetime last night, and that has hardened me into the woman I woke up this morning into.

Which is why I’m holding divorce papers now, ready to end this bondage called marriage.

Adrian’s voice carries from the living room.

“I told them it’s handled,” he says, irritation threaded through every syllable of his words the way it always does whenever he is speaking to people he thinks are beneath him. “Yes. I’ll deal with it.”

A pause.

“I said I will.”

He ends the call just as I step fully into view, and turns almost immediately, only for our gazes to meet.

The annoyance on his face changes, contorting into a condescending one, like I’ve inconvenienced him by existing.

“You’re back early,” he says.

I say nothing. Instead, my gaze drifts briefly to Vivienne.

She’s seated on the couch, her legs crossed. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail today, and she is wearing one of my sweaters like she belongs here.

I watch as she sizes me up and down before her eyes flick to the envelope in my hand.

Then, her lips curve into a fake, understanding fake smile.

I want to smack it off her face.

“I spoke to your father,” Adrian’s voice snaps my attention back to him, just in time for him to stalk towards me slowly. His eyes flick towards the envelope too for a brief second before he looks back at me. “So this is it?” He asks. “You want to end the marriage?”

“The contract term is over,” I say flatly. “It’s been over by a month and a week now.”

“And you didn’t choose to file for a divorce until now?” He asks, disbelief obvious in his voice and written all over his face. “Until she came? You put up all these performance because of her?”

I say nothing.

He laughs, the sound mocking and arrogant. “Do you think you’re going to walk away from here with dignity? You’d have literally nothing without me, Elara. No house. No status. No — ”

“I’m not here to argue, Adrian,” I cut in.

That seems to irritate him more.

“So you are, in fact, jealous,” he snaps. “That’s what this is. You can’t stand that someone actually understands me.”

His words make an invisible knife twist in my chest, but I push it down. I want to tell him that I’ve always understood and been by his side for seven whole years despite him pushing me away and making me feel unimportant, but I chew my words. I chew my words because I’m done trying to explain myself, especially to people who don’t give a batshit about me.

That’s when Vivienne decides it’s her turn to speak.

“Adrian,” she says gently, passing me a performative pitying look while already standing. “It’s okay. I don’t want to be the problem here. I’ll leave soon. I really don’t want to stay between a married couple.”

I don’t react.

Adrian scoffs. “Don’t start acting like a martyr,” he tells her, then looks back at me. “So this is what this is about?”

He gestures vaguely. At her. At the house. At the humiliation he pretends doesn’t exist.

“You’re ending the marriage because you’re jealous?” he repeats again, and I swear one would think he’s in disbelief. “Of her?”

“I don’t want to stay in a marriage or house thar doesn’t serve me anymore,” I say. “Which is why I want to end the marriage. The whole emotional neglect from yesterday and her presence are simply the turning points.”

No one says anything, letting the silence stretch in the room, only to be interrupted by the light sound of footsteps before the owner appears.

Theo.

He doesn’t say anything at first, and neither does he even look at me. He simply walks straight to Vivienne and seats on the couch beside her, leaning into her arm when she sits.

Adrian exhales. “You see?” He asks, gesturing towards them. “Even my son knows who’s actually for him.”

Before I’d correct him and say ‘our son,’ but now, I doubt if I’m anything more than just the woman who carried him in my womb because just like his father, he doesn’t care about me.

Theo finally speaks. “You’re a bad mother,” he says. “You want to leave us. Vivienne wouldn’t do that.”

I don’t respond to him, and somehow, he takes that as an invitation to continue. “You can go anyway. Vivienne will take care of me once you’re gone. Just like a good mother would.”

Vivienne gasps softly. “Theo—”

But she doesn’t correct him.

Of course she doesn’t.

I want to laugh at the absurdity of this all, but I don’t have time for that. So, I walk forward and place the envelope on the table between Adrian and me.

“Sign,” I say, my voice hard.

His jaw clenches. “You’re really doing this.”

“Yes.”

He opens it, reads, and scoffs again. Then, he signs with unnecessary force, the pen scratching hard against the paper.

“There,” he says. “Done. But I want you to know that you won’t survive out there on your own. No one would be able to put up with you the way I have.”

Without any word, I take the papers back and fold them neatly, surprised the need to cry doesn’t come. I simply walk upstairs to the bedroom and pack what belongs to me in a box.

When I come back out, no one speaks as expected.

I walk past them. Past the life I was supposed to accept, especially with my son whom I’ve always loved. Past the humiliation. Past the pretending.

The door closes behind me. And just like that, my marriage to Adrian Hale comes to an end.