Chapter five

Chapter Five- 

Hannah

"Why?" Kingston's voice cracked on the word. "Why do you want a divorce?"

I kept my eyes on him, steady. "I'm freeing you, Kingston. So you can be with the one who actually wants you."

"Hannah—"

"There's nothing left for me to give you anyway." My voice didn't shake, even though everything in me wanted it to. "I can't give you children. I can't give you peace. What's the use of staying?"

Silence sat over the table for a moment before Caroline's voice cut through it.

"She's right." She said it plainly, like she was agreeing to a business decision. "The divorce is what you both need."

Kingston's jaw tightened. He looked at his mother, then back at me. "Is that really what you want? At least think about it, Hannah."

"I have thought about it." The words came out slower now, heavier. "I thought about it all night. There's no place for me in this house anymore." I paused. "Not even in your heart."

I stood up before anyone could say anything else, before Samantha could add her own commentary, before Kingston could find something to say that might make me hesitate.

I walked out of the house without looking back.

************

The courthouse was quieter than I expected, all fluorescent light and shuffling papers. I sat across from a lawyer whose name I already forgot, his office smelling faintly of old coffee and printer ink.

"You understand what a divorce filing means," he said, glancing up from the form in front of him. "Once we begin this process, there's no easy undoing it."

"I understand."

"And this is what you want? No one's pressuring you into this decision?"

I thought about Caroline's smile at the table, about Kingston's silence at every dinner where his family tore me apart, about Emma's arms around him in his office. I thought about seven years, and how small I'd made myself trying to fit into a marriage that had stopped fitting me a long time ago.

"Yes," I said. "This is what I want."

He nodded and began filling out the paperwork.

**********

By the time I got back to the house, the sun had climbed higher, spilling through the windows in a way that felt almost mocking, too bright for what was about to happen.

Kingston, Caroline, and Samantha were exactly where I'd left them, like time had simply paused in that room waiting for me to return and finish what I started.

Kingston stood the moment he saw the lawyer beside me. He swallowed hard, his eyes moving from the lawyer's face to the folder tucked under his arm.

Caroline's smile came slow and satisfied. "Please," she said, gesturing toward the sitting room like she was hosting a guest of honor. "Come in."

The lawyer walked ahead of me into the living room. Kingston followed a step behind, quiet in a way I'd rarely seen him.

We all took our seats. The lawyer opened his folder and looked between us.

"Mrs. Vale." He turned to me first. "Is this still what you want?"

"Yes."

He turned to Kingston. "And you, Mr. Vale?"

Kingston didn't answer right away. His eyes found mine across the room, and for a moment I thought I saw something behind them — regret, maybe, or the beginning of it. But it passed too quickly to trust.

"Yes," he said finally.

The lawyer slid the papers across the table, toward me first. I picked up the pen without letting my hand shake, and signed my name at the bottom of the page that would end seven years of my life.

Kingston signed after me. I didn't watch him do it. I was already looking past him, past all of them, toward the door.

Packing didn't take long. I hadn't brought much into this marriage, and I wasn't taking much out of it either — a few dresses, some photographs, the small wooden box I kept tucked in the back of my closet, the one holding four tiny hospital bracelets I never had the heart to throw away.

When I came down the stairs with my suitcase, they were all still there, watching. 

Caroline's face was unreadable. Samantha didn't even try to hide her relief. And Kingston—he just stood there, hands in his pockets, eyes finally lifting to meet mine for the first time all morning.

I looked at him one last time, searching for some trace of the man who used to love me. 

I wished, foolishly, that this was all some terrible dream I'd wake up from. That I'd open my eyes and find myself back in the early years, back when his hands still reached for mine without hesitation.

But this was real. This was the end.

I turned and walked out the door without looking back again.

I didn't say goodbye. There was nothing left worth saying.

**************

The rain had started somewhere between the house and the station, a fine grey drizzle clinging to everything. I stood under the awning at Euston, my case beside me, waiting to cross toward the platform entrance.

Relief washed over me for a while, cool and strange, like stepping into water after standing too long in the sun. 

Then the regret came, sharp and sudden, stealing my breath.

I regret believing love alone was enough. I regret that my babies never got the chance to live. I regret every year I gave to people who never gave anything back.

Without looking properly, I stepped into the road, my mind still back at that house.

I didn't see the car coming.

It hit me before I even registered the sound of the engine, and everything went sideways—the case flying from my hand, the wet pavement rushing up to meet me.

Voices gathered somewhere above me,someone shouting for an ambulance.

Then the grey sky blurred, and everything folded into silence.