Chapter 5

The Signature

Adrian sat at his desk. The pen felt heavy between his fingers. Morning light cut across the divorce papers like a knife. At 7:15 AM, he clicked the pen once, twice, then put the tip on the first page.

He signed. Adrian Knight. Clean, sharp strokes. No pausing. No reading the small print. He flipped to the second page. Signed. Third, Fourth. Each signature came faster, like closing another business deal.

He stacked the papers neatly, tapped the edges even, and stood up. His bare feet took him upstairs. He stopped outside the guest room and knocked twice — hard, controlled.

The lock clicked. Sophia opened the door, still in her robe, hair loose and messy. Her eyes got a little wider when she saw the papers in his hand.

He held them out without saying a word.

She took them. Her fingers brushed him for a split second. She flipped to the signature pages, thumb running over his name. Her shoulders got tight. “You didn’t read them.”

Adrian leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, arms relaxed at his sides. “I didn’t need to.”

“You don’t know what you’re giving up.” Her voice broke on the last word. She held the papers tighter. Her knuckles turned white.

“I know exactly what I’m giving up.” He looked her straight in the eyes. “You.”

Sophia pressed her lips together, shifting from one foot to the other. “Adrian—”

“I signed them, Sophia. That’s what you wanted, right?” He stood up straight, running a hand through his messy hair. “No more waiting. No more cold dinners. No more empty house.”

She looked down at the papers again, then backed up at him. Her free hand grabbed the doorframe. “Just like that? After everything in the letter? After the baby? You sign and walk away?”

He took one step closer, close enough to see the faint red around her eyes. “What did you expect? You wrote it all out. The dinners. The gifts. The nights I wasn’t here. I read every word. And I signed.”

Sophia’s breathing got faster. She stepped back into the room but left the door open. “Say something. Yell. Get mad. Anything. Don’t just stand there like this is another contract you’re closing.”

Adrian followed her inside, stopping a few feet away. His hands flexed at his sides. “What do you want from me right now? I gave you the signature. I gave you the way out you asked for.” His voice stayed low, controlled, but his jaw was tight. “You want me on my knees? Fine.”

He got down slowly onto one knee on the hardwood floor, right in front of her. One hand rested on his raised knee, the other loose at his side. He looked up at her, eyes dark and hard to read. “Is this what you need to see? Me kneeling? Me begging?”

Sophia stared down at him. Her lips parted. A small sound came out — then another. It started as a breath, but it grew. Her shoulders shook. She put her hand over her mouth, but the laughter broke out anyway — sharp, shaky, with something raw in it.

“You’re kneeling,” she got out between bitter laughs. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Now? After five years? You kneel now?”

Adrian stayed on his knee, watching her. His free hand made a loose fist against his thigh. “Laugh if you need to. I deserve it.”

She wiped at her eyes, but the laughter kept coming, mixed with quiet sobs. The papers shook in her other hand. “I waited for you. I loved you. I lost our baby alone in a hospital room while you were closing some deal in Singapore. And you sign the papers in five minutes and kneel like it fixes anything?”

He pushed himself up slowly, brushing off his knee, but stayed close. “I can’t fix the past. I’m not asking you to stay. You made that clear.” His voice got rough. “But don’t laugh like this didn’t break me too.”

Sophia turned away, shoulders hunched, still holding the papers tight. “It’s done,” she whispered, voice breaking. “You signed. We’re done.”

“It’s done,” he repeated. He reached toward her shoulder but stopped, hand dropping. “Is that all you wanted?”

She spun back around, eyes searching his face hard. “Is that all? Don’t you want to know why it got this bad? Don’t you want to fight for me? For us?”

Adrian looked over his shoulder toward the hallway, then back at her. His face stayed flat, almost blank. “I don’t fight for things that have already left.”

Sophia stared at him. The laughter died into silence. Her fingers loosened on the papers.

He nodded once, turned, and walked out of the room. His footsteps echoed down the stairs. The front door opened, then clicked shut behind him.

Sophia stood in the hallway, the divorce papers hanging loose from her fingers. She looked down at his signature again. Adrian Knight. Clean. Final.

She had loved him for five years. Waited for him. Hoped. And he had signed her away in less than five minutes.

A shaky laugh escaped her again. She slid down the wall until she sat on the floor, legs out. The papers scattered around her like fallen leaves. She picked up the first page, crushing it in her fist.

“Goodbye, Adrian,” she whispered to the empty house. “Just… goodbye.”

Outside, a car engine started but didn’t drive away. Sophia pushed herself up on shaky legs and moved to the window. Adrian’s sleek black car still sat in the driveway. He hadn’t left.

Through the windshield, she could see him. Forehead pressed against the steering wheel, shoulders slumped, hands holding the wheel tight. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t coming back inside.

Sophia’s breath caught. Her fingers pressed against the cool glass.