I'VE LOST EVERYTHING

I had the divorce papers ready by evening.

I called my lawyer, Mr Hartley, someone who didn't ask too many questions. I told him exactly what I wanted-a clean break. No alimony. No fighting over assets. I just wanted my freedom and my dignity, what little I had left of both.

He prepared the papers quickly, and I signed my name with a hand that barely shook. Part of me expected to feel relief when I did it. Part of me expected to feel liberated.

Instead, I just felt numb.

I placed the unsigned papers on the kitchen table and waited.

Damon came home around midnight.

I could hear him before I saw him, the sound of his car in the driveway, the heavy footsteps in the hallway. The way his breathing sounded like he was barely containing his rage.

When he walked into the kitchen, his entire body was tense. His jaw was clenched so hard I could see the muscle working beneath his skin. His eyes were red, like he had been yelling or crying or some combination of both.

"She lost the baby," he said, and his voice was so hollow, so broken, that for a moment I forgot to be afraid.

"What?" I whispered.

"Melissa lost the baby," he said again, louder this time. "The doctors said the fall caused internal bleeding. They couldn't stop it. She lost our child, Hazel. Our heir. Our future because of you."

The words landed on me like a weight I couldn't carry.

"I didn't push her," I said immediately. "Damon, I didn't push her. Please, you have to believe me. I was angry when she told me about the pregnancy. I was shocked and hurt and I needed to understand, so I told her to show me the prove but she was going way and I tried to hold her hand but she pulled away from me and she fell. It was an accident. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

He looked at me like I was speaking a language he didn't understand.

"You killed my child," he said quietly.

"I didn't mean to," I said, and I could feel the tears starting. The guilt was overwhelming, crushing, suffocating. "I was just trying to talk to her. I was just trying to understand."

"I don't care," he said, and his voice was so cold it froze the tears on my cheeks. "I don't care about your explanations or your excuses or your guilt. I'm done with you, Hazel. I'm done with your drama. I'm done with this entire situation."

He looked at the kitchen table and saw the divorce papers.

"Are these it?" he asked.

I nodded.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. He didn't even read the papers or ask any questions. He just picked up a pen and signed his name at the bottom of each page with aggressive, angry strokes.

It took him less than a minute to finish it. Less than a minute to end three years of marriage. Less than a minute to sign away the life we had built together, as if it had meant nothing.

As if I had meant nothing.

When he was done, he pushed the papers across the table toward me.

"You need to leave," he said.

"I know," I said quietly. "I'll pack my things and I'll be gone by tomorrow morning. I just need some time to...."

"Now," he interrupted. "You need to leave now. Tonight."

"What?" I said.

"You heard me," he said. "Get your things and get out of my house. I don't care where you go. I don't care if you sleep in your car or on the streets. I just need you gone before Melissa comes home tomorrow. I don't want her to see you here. I don't want to be reminded of what you did every time I look at you."

"Damon, please," I said. "It's the middle of the night. At least let me wait until morning."

"No," he said, and he stood up and walked away from me like the conversation was over. "And you're not taking anything with you, not even your car."

Of course I knew this was coming.

I was being kicked out of my own home with nothing but the clothes on my back and the signed divorce papers that proved I no longer belonged to anyone.

I went upstairs in a daze and threw some clothes into a suitcase. I didn't think about what I was packing. I just moved on autopilot, my hands shaking so badly I could barely zip the suitcase closed.

When I came back downstairs, Damon was sitting on the couch with a drink in his hand, staring at nothing.

He didn't look at me as I walked past him.

He didn't say goodbye.

He just let me leave.

I stood in the driveway with my two suitcases and I realized I had absolutely nowhere to go. No family that wanted me. No friends that I had kept in touch with besides Sophia. No safe place in the world.

I planned to go over to Sophia's and stay for the time being but it was very late and she is probably asleep, all my calls went straight to voicemail. I didn't have anything to go to or stay for the night but I had to leave, I couldn't stay in this house another minute.

I picked up my suitcases and walked out of the house into the cold night. The cold air hit my face as I stepped onto the dark, empty road. Tears finally fell freely down my cheeks.

I had lost everything.

My husband.

My family.

My home.

My dignity.

I kept walking, dragging my heavy bags behind me. I was alone all over again and i missed my mom. The only person who’d have stood by me, held me and protected me from this cruel world. Sometimes I wished my mom took me away with her when she died in that accident, at least I wouldn't be bearing all this burden alone at just twenty-six. The street was quiet. Too quiet. Only the sound of my suitcase wheels and my quiet sobs filled the night.

I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I couldn’t stop.

Then headlights suddenly appeared behind me, moving fast. I turned around and the car was coming too quickly. I tried to jump out of the way, but it was too late.

The black car screeched to a halt just inches from me.

I stumbled backward and fell hard onto the cold road. "What the hell...?"