2: DIVORCE PAPERS

ELARA'S POV

"Don’t joke like that," I chuckle, trying to brush it off, giving him a light shove. Nate isn’t usually one for jokes, but every now and then, he surprises me. I wait for that familiar glint of mischief to break the tension, the hint that he's teasing me. But… it isn’t there.

He looks at me, his eyes flat and unyielding. "I’m not joking, Elara. I want a divorce."

The words are a sucker punch. My chest tightens as I stumble back a step, the brown envelope I’ve been holding slipping from my grasp. I tighten my grip on it instinctively, clinging to it like it’s the last piece of reality keeping me grounded.

A divorce? Why? My head spins, trying to process his words, to find sense in them. Yes, we’d been distant lately, but it was nothing serious.

We still shared our bed, ate our meals together, and spent time in each other’s arms… he even kissed me on the forehead this morning before he left for work.

“If this isn’t a joke, then why, Nate?” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he slides a set of papers from the inner pocket of his jacket and holds them out to me. My hands tremble as I reach for them, a sinking feeling in my gut. Sure enough, the words "DIVORCE AGREEMENT" are written across the top in thick, capital letters that seem to mock me.

“Sign it,” he says, thrusting a pen in my direction. I don’t take it, can’t even comprehend the demand.

My eyes burn, but I fight back the tears. Am I awake? Or is this some twisted nightmare I can’t escape? I search his face, hoping to find the man I married the man who once loved me. But his expression is as cold as stone.

“Nate… I don’t understand,” I murmur, my voice cracking. “What’s going on? Why are you doing this?” A low sob slips from my throat.

He scoffs, his expression twisted in disgust. “I don’t want to be in this marriage anymore, Elara. That should be clear.”

“But… why?” My voice is barely a whisper, the pain piercing. “I don’t remember doing anything to deserve this. Please, Nate, just tell me why.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes like I’m an inconvenience. “Let’s skip the theatrics. Just tell me how much you want to sign these papers and let me go.”

Money. My heart sinks. He can’t possibly mean that. But before I can respond, he thrusts a blank check in my face.

“If you’re too shy to name your price, write it down. Whatever it takes to get you to stop wasting my time with this little performance,” he sneers.

“Performance?” I choke, blinking back tears. “You think I’m acting? Nate, of all people, you should know how much I love you. I know you love me, too. We’re a team, remember? If I did something wrong, we can work through it together like we always have.”

He lets out a cruel, humorless laugh. “Oh, enough with the sob story. Your emotional blackmail isn’t going to work on me. Not this time.”

Cold disbelief chills me as I stare at him. “Two years, Nate. We’ve been married for two years. I have never lied to you or manipulated you. Wanting a divorce is one thing, but questioning my character and my love for you? That’s cruel.”

He raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms. “If you’re as devoted as you claim, then sign the damn papers and set me free. Or does your ‘love’ mean you get to trap me in a marriage I don’t want?”

Each word he says slices deeper, but I force myself to nod. I take the pen, flipping through the papers and signing each line with hands that shake so badly it’s almost illegible. The date next to his signature almost a month ago crushes what’s left of my heart.

“Here,” I say, shoving the papers against his chest. “This is how much I love you. I won’t trap you if I’m so ‘suffocating.’ I’ll set you free.”

He checks the papers, his mouth curling into a faint smile as he sees that I’ve signed every line. “Good. Now, once you’ve decided on your price, go to the bank and take it. Take whatever you want. It’s the least I owe you.” He pushes the blank check toward me.

I look down at the check, then rip it into tiny pieces, tossing them at his feet. “I didn’t marry you for your money, and I won’t divorce you for it. It hurts to know that’s what you think of me.”

He shrugs, as if I’m just a minor inconvenience. Without another word, I turn and head upstairs, my heart pounding so hard I can barely breathe. I pack what little I need into a suitcase, grabbing my purse on my way out. As I reach the door, my foot bumps against something on the floor the brown envelope with my test results.

I pick it up, staring at it, feeling the weight of my heartache all over again. Despite everything, Nate deserves to know about our baby. he had always been there with me after every negative result.

I look around the living room, but he’s nowhere to be found. With a deep breath, I drag my suitcase outside. My gaze lands on him sitting in his car, his eyes meeting mine briefly before he looks away.

“Nate, wait!” I call out, rushing toward him. “I have something to tell you!”

But before I can reach his car, he starts the engine, his expression hard and unmoved as he drives off, the wheels splashing muddy water onto my dress as he leaves me standing there, alone in the dark.