CHAPTER 5

Maya

I sat outside the records office, divorce papers in my lap, watching couples pass by. Some are getting married, some are getting divorced.

David was late. Of course he was.

James sat beside me, silent and protective. He had wanted lawyers, revenge, everything. I told him no. I did not want David’s money. I wanted my name back.

“He has five minutes,” James said, checking his watch.

“Give him ten.”

“You are being too nice.”

“I am being done. There’s a difference.”

At nine forty-seven, David walked in. Suit wrinkled. Eyes hollow. He stopped when he saw me.

“Maya.”

“You are late.” I stood, held out the papers. “Sign these.”

“Can we talk first?”

“We talked already. You said I was dramatic and asked if I wanted money. There’s nothing left to say.”

He glanced at James. “Can we speak privately?”

“No,” James said.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Five minutes.”

We moved to the corner of the hallway.

“You look different,” David said quietly.

“I am different. I stopped pretending to be invisible.”

“I never asked you to be invisible.”

“You never asked me to be anything. That was the problem.”

He sighed. “What if I don’t want to let you go?”

“You never had me. You had a donor. A housekeeper. A convenient wife.”

“That’s not fair. I cared about you.”

“The way you care about your accountant.” I met his eyes. “I deserved to be loved, David.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said. “How to be what you need.”

“I know. That’s why I’m leaving.”

“Grace needs more treatments—”

“I don’t care.” The words came sharply. “She’s not my responsibility.”

“She’s sick.”

“She’s your choice. She’s always been your choice.”

He grabbed my wrist, desperate. “Maya, please. I can be better.”

“You had three years to be better. You chose not to.”

“I was trying to save Grace’s life.”

“And I was trying to save our marriage. We both failed.”

I pulled free and held out the papers. “Sign them. Or I’ll have my lawyers do it. Either way, it’s over.”

He finally took them, hands shaking. “Where will you go?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“It is. You’re still my wife until these are filed.”

“Then sign them so I’m not.”

He hesitated. “You want to throw away three years?”

“I want to stop bleeding for someone who never loved me. I want to remember what it feels like to matter.”

“You matter to me.”

“No. I mattered when you needed blood, dinner, or someone to manage your life. But never as a wife.”

He signed. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re sorry you got caught.” I took the papers. “Goodbye, David.”

James met me by the exit. “Done?”

“Done.”

The clerk stamped and filed the papers. Three years reduced to signatures and a f*e.

Outside, David still watched through the window. I didn’t look back.

“Where to now?” James asked.

“The hospital. I need to talk to Grace.”

“Maya—”

“I need closure.”

We drove in silence. Harbor City rolled by, the city where I tried to build a life as David’s shadow.

Grace was in her private room, surrounded by flowers and soft music. She looked startled when I entered.

“Maya. David said you left.”

“I did. I came to tell you something.”

“If this is about the donations—”

“I’m done donating.”

She blinked. “But you’re the only compatible donor.”

“Then find another one.”

“You’re abandoning me?”

“I’m choosing myself for once. There’s a difference.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m tired of destroying myself to keep you alive.”

She looked up, voice fragile. “David loves me. He always has. You were a convenient solution.”

“I know. That’s why I left.”

“He’ll come back to me. Once you’re gone, he’ll see we’re meant to be.”

“Probably. You can have him.” I picked up my purse. “Congratulations.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Nothing about the last three years was fair.”

At the door, she said, “You’re nothing without him.”

“The only thing I regret is waiting three years to find out that isn’t true.”

James waited outside. “Feel better?”

“Getting there.”

We were near the elevator when footsteps echoed behind us. David again.

“Maya, wait. I need to understand. Where did this come from? Everything was fine and suddenly—”

“Everything was fine?” I stared at him. “David, when is my birthday?”

He hesitated.

“What’s my favorite color? What makes me happy?” I asked. “You don’t know. You never tried.”

“I was busy with work and Grace.”

“You were busy avoiding being a husband.” I pressed the elevator button.

He blocked the door. “Just tell me where you’re staying.”

“You won’t need to reach me.”

“The papers take thirty days. We’re still married.”

“Not where it matters.” I removed his hand. “Goodbye, David.”

The doors closed on his face.

In the car, James said quietly, “You handled that better than I would have.”

“I had three years of practice being calm while dying inside.”

“You’re not dying anymore.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not.”

My phone buzzed. David calling. I declined and turned it off.

“Where to?”

“Home. I need sleep.”

“And after that?”

“After that, we rebuild Maya Lawson.”

We drove back to the Lawson estate, past everything I was leaving behind. When we pulled in, Sophie’s car was already there. She ran out, arms wide.

“You actually did it,” she said, hugging me. “You left that emotionally constipated waste of genetics.”

I laughed, rusty but real. “I did.”

“Good. I brought wine and a list of things to insult him with.”

“I can’t drink after all the donations.”

“Then I’ll drink and you’ll eat cheese. Either way, we celebrate.”

Inside, the house felt safe again. My father texted: Proud of you, sweetheart.

I changed into comfortable clothes. Sophie poured wine and handed me a plate of snacks.

“To Maya Lawson,” she said, raising her glass. “Who remembered who she is.”

“To remember,” I said.

We sat in the living room, laughter mixing with quiet peace.

“So,” Sophie grinned. “When do we tell Harbor City you’re not just a nobody who married up?”

“Six months. Dad’s planning a formal announcement.”

“David’s going to lose his mind.”

“He’ll finally realize he never knew me.”

My phone buzzed again. Unknown number: You made a mistake leaving David. He’s mine and always will be. Stay away.

Grace.

I showed Sophie. She laughed. “Should we tell her you’re a billionaire heiress?”

“No. Let her think she won.” I deleted it. “I’m done competing for a man who never chose me.”

Sophie raised her glass. “To be done.”

“To be done,” I echoed.

Outside, the sun set over the Lawson estate. Inside, I was finally home. Not the home I built with David, but the one I left behind when I thought love was worth more than self-respect.

I was wrong.

But I was learning. Healing. Remembering.

And soon, Harbor City would remember too.

Maya Lawson was back.