Chapter 4

On the final day of the challenge, Camille told me to return to our house.

She said the seven days were over. My key, the Ashford signet ring, and my departure papers would be returned in person. It was also time to settle the problem between us.

Before I opened the door, I looked through the narrow gap and saw that the living room had been decorated the same way it was every year when Camille announced the end of the game.

There was champagne, cake, and brightly colored streamers.

The walls, however, were covered with photographs of me arguing with them, walking out in anger, and tearing up the game agreements over the past three years.

Beneath each photograph was the bet they had made that year.

This year’s question read:

How many minutes will it take Rowan to surrender after he sees the divorce agreement?

Julian sat in my usual place, turning my car key between his fingers. The Ashford signet ring was still on his right hand.

Camille stood beside him.

Someone began teasing them.

“Rowan isn’t here yet. Why don’t you two finally admit what’s going on?”

“He always gives in after making a scene. I don’t know why you still pretend there’s nothing between you.”

Another friend laughed. “I saw both of you leaving a hotel on the sixteenth last month, and you still expect us to believe you’re only friends?”

My hand froze on the doorknob.

On the sixteenth of last month, my stomach had hurt so badly that I could barely stand. I called Camille three times.

She said she was in a meeting and could not leave. She told me to take some medicine and ask the driver to take me to the hospital if it became serious.

She had never been at the office.

Inside the living room, Julian looked at Camille as though he had received her permission.

He rose, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her.

Camille froze for a second, then frowned and pushed him away.

“Enough.”

Julian returned to his seat. “I was only playing along for the final day.”

Camille fell silent and looked at the documents on the coffee table.

“Rowan has taken this more seriously than he did before. After tonight, we shouldn’t play this game again.”

I listened from outside and almost laughed.

Even after everything that had happened, she still considered it a game.

I opened the door and walked into the living room.

The laughter stopped at once.

Two identical divorce agreements lay in the center of the coffee table.

Camille had already signed her name on the final page of each copy. Once I signed them, the agreement would become legally binding.

She looked at me. There was a trace of unease in her expression, but confidence remained stronger. She believed I would give in at the last moment, just as I had during the past three years.

Someone smiled and reminded me, “Rowan, two years ago you tore up the fake agreement after signing half your name. Don’t change your mind at the last second again.”

Julian leaned against the sofa. “Don’t take it seriously. Camille only wants to know that you still love her.”

Camille did not deny it.

“Admit that you’re jealous, apologize to Julian, and put your wedding ring back on. Then I’ll destroy the agreement in front of you.”

I picked up one copy.

The property division, ownership of the house, and marriage details were all real. The attorney’s signature and official seal were clearly visible.

The second copy was identical. Camille had signed every place requiring her approval.

To make this year’s challenge feel real, she had prepared two legally valid divorce agreements.

She still did not believe I would sign them.

One of our friends raised a phone and pointed the camera at my face, ready to record my fourth breakdown.

The countdown began on the screen mounted to the wall.

Camille stood across the coffee table, watching me without looking away.

With three seconds remaining, I picked up the pen.

Her expression relaxed. She seemed certain I would push the papers back at the last second and demand to know whether she truly wanted a divorce, just as I had two years earlier.

I did not argue or hesitate.

I turned to the final page and signed my name beside Camille’s.

Then I took the second copy and signed that one too.

The countdown reached zero.

Every laugh in the room died.