The 99th Divorce Agreement

When I finished speaking, the live chat flooded with comments.

Some called me a sore loser.

Others told Carter to go comfort his wife.

Carter just chuckled.

He reached out to ruffle my hair.

"Stop making a scene."

His palm was still cool from holding his drink.

I didn't flinch.

Inside my bag, my fingers tightened around the positive IVF report, the sharp paper edges digging into my skin.

The pain kept me sharp.

Chloe leaned into the camera frame.

"Oh, come on, Evelyn. Stop acting."

She gave me a playful smirk.

"You're a divorce lawyer. You know the law better than anyone and you're the last person who would ever sign those papers."

Carter slowly slid the ring off my finger.

As the band left my skin, I stared at the faint white line left behind.

At our wedding seven years ago, he held my hand and promised he would let me win every game for the rest of our lives.

Now, he placed that ring directly into Chloe's palm.

"It's just for twenty-four hours," he said, turning back to me.

"I'll take you straight to the registry tomorrow morning to cancel it."

Chloe forced the ring onto her own finger.

It didn't fit, but she jammed it down anyway.

"Guess being Mrs. Jackson isn't that hard after all."

The chat blew up again.

Carter frowned, but he didn't tell her to take it off.

Instead, he leaned in and dropped his voice.

"Play along, Evelyn."

"Chloe just signed with our agency. She can't take another wave of online hate.

"You're a lawyer. Be reasonable."

I stared at him.

Be reasonable?

Those words sent a chill straight through my stomach.

He said the exact same thing the night of my fourth miscarriage.

I had been lying on a cold bench in the hospital hallway, calling him seventeen times in a row.

He sent back a single text.

“We're short a player tonight. Don't ruin everyone's fun.”

I didn't bring it up that night.

I just pulled the printed divorce papers toward me.

It was a template printed on the fly, titled ‘Game Penalty Prop’

At the bottom, it read. “To be voided by both parties tomorrow. Not a legally binding agreement.”

I picked up a pen and crossed it out.

The smile faded from Carter's face.

"Evelyn. We're still live."

I kept writing.

"Then let them get a good look.

"You asked me to draft a divorce paper. I'm doing my job."

I struck through the word ‘Temporary’.

I replaced it with ‘Irrevocable Dissolution of Marriage’.

Division of assets, debt allocation, medical privacy waivers, property rights.

I laid it all out.

Carter slammed his hand down on the page.

"Don't make things hard for Chloe."

I looked up at him.

"And what about me?"

He went quiet.

A comment popped up on the screen.

“Looks like the wife is taking this seriously.”

His friend Julian slapped the table and laughed out loud.

"This is crazy! Get a close-up! Best dare ever!"

The camera zoomed right into my face.

They put my dignity on display, waiting for me to break down and cry.

Suddenly, Carter tried another angle.

"The mortgage on the old place is still tied to my primary bank account!

"If you make this official, it's going to be a nightmare to sort out."

I looked at my bare ring finger.

Then I looked at the cold glint of silver on Chloe's hand.

The final thread holding me back snapped.

I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts.

I deleted ‘My Love’ and changed his contact back to his full name.

Carter Jackson.

Then, I signed my name at the bottom of the page.

Evelyn Jackson.

As the ink dried, I tapped my phone screen to trigger the firm's cloud portal.

The official filing was generated instantly.

Everyone thought I was just signing a prop for a stupid live stream dare.

Only I knew this was the only divorce agreement out of ninety-nine that would ever take effect.

Carter looked down and finally caught the handwritten line next to my signature.

“Voluntary separation. Irrevocable. All temporary clauses null and void.”

His hand slammed onto the document, his voice cracking.

"Evelyn, did you just make this real?!”