[2]

A Few Hours Before the Accident

"Sign this paper."

I froze, stunned by what my husband had just said. My eyes flicked between the document he handed me and the man standing a short distance away. Orlando Gilbret—my husband—looked more handsome than usual tonight. Maybe it was because of the special dinner; he had chosen a perfectly tailored suit, after all.

Yes, tonight was our fifth wedding anniversary. Every year, we celebrated with a dinner, just the two of us, sometimes with his parents too. Just like tonight. I was expecting them to arrive any minute now.

But… why was I being handed a document on a night like this?

"What is this?" I finally asked.

"You should go through it and sign it right away," Orlando said coldly. There was no warmth in his voice, and his gaze no longer softened when it landed on me. I had noticed he’d been distant over the past few months, but I chose to stay optimistic. Maybe it was work—stressful and overwhelming—that changed him. I understood. I tried to be patient.

Still… as I pulled the papers out of the envelope, something immediately felt off. There was a logo at the top that sent a chill down my spine.

Civil Court.

Wait—was this…?

"You’re asking me to sign divorce papers?"

"Yes," Orlando replied without hesitation.

His answer left me completely speechless. My mouth fell open in disbelief. "You’re… you’re not joking, are you?"

"Do I look like I’m joking?" he shot back, eyes unflinching.

I stared at him, my chest tightening. My hands trembled slightly as I held the documents in front of me. From the beginning, I refused to believe anything was wrong. But now, reality hit me like a raging storm. Orlando was really standing in front of me, expressionless—as if I were just a chapter in his life he couldn’t wait to finish and forget.

"Orlando," I choked out, my voice cracking. "Are you really serious? You want me to sign this?"

Of all the nightmares I had imagined, this one was the cruelest. I never thought the man I loved would do something so cold—so painful.

"But… why?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes.

He lifted his chin slightly, his eyes like ice—Antarctic cold. Unfazed. So different from the Orlando I once knew.

"No specific reason. Just sign it. Let’s get this over with."

I searched his face, hoping—pleading—for even the smallest flicker of doubt, the tiniest hint of guilt.

There was nothing. Only a void that tore through me like a blade.

"Did I do something wrong? Why are you suddenly like this?" I asked, my voice starting to shake.

Orlando sighed heavily, as if the very act of answering me was an unbearable chore. He pulled out a chair and sat down, his movements slow and unwilling.

"This isn’t about what you did or didn’t do, Paula. I just can’t do this anymore."

Before I could respond, the sharp clack of high heels echoed from the hallway. We both turned toward the sound. Or rather, I couldn’t look away from the woman who had just walked in.

A flawless blonde. Behind her, a nanny pushed a stroller.

I recognized that face. Jeany Rosalia. Daughter of one of SouthWales’ most prominent businessmen. We’d met briefly at a business gala a few years ago.

But what was she doing here? And more importantly—why did that child in the stroller look exactly like Orlando?

Jeany stopped beside him, flashing a coy, knowing smile. Then, without hesitation, she leaned into him—soft and sultry. And the most painful part? Orlando didn’t push her away.

Instead, he invited her to sit beside him.

“Baby, aren’t you done here yet?” she asked sweetly, her voice grating against my ears like nails on glass.

Her perfectly manicured fingers trailed along my husband’s cheek like she owned him.

But more than her touch—more than her presence—I heard what she called him.

Darling.

I felt my heart stop. Time seemed to freeze as my gaze shifted between Jeany, the little boy, and Orlando. What was really happening?

"Jeany," I said, trying to steady my voice even as my heart shattered into a thousand pieces. "What are you doing here?"

She let out a soft, mocking laugh. “I’m here because Orlando said he wanted to settle things. I’ve waited long enough in the shadows, Paula.”

“Settle things? What do you mean?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.

Jeany pulled the stroller closer and gently stroked the little boy’s head. Her smile widened with pride. “This is our son, Damien. Orlando and I have been together for a long time. Surely you understand—five years of marriage without a child? That’s far too long for any family.”

I froze. The world around me collapsed in a silent, devastating instant.

“You’re joking, right?” I turned to Orlando, clinging to the last thread of hope. “Tell me this isn’t real. Answer me, Orlando! What is all this?”

But he said nothing. He looked down briefly, then raised his head with the same cold expression he’d worn all night.

“It’s the truth, Paula. I love Jeany. And I don’t want to continue this marriage anymore.” Then, as if to seal his betrayal, he reached for the child and lifted him in his arms with a tenderness I hadn’t seen in months—kissing the boy’s head like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Besides, I have a child with Jeany. So… I think you know what needs to be done.”

“How could you do this to me?” I shook my head, tears streaming freely down my face. “Five years, Orlando. Five years I stood by your side, supported you, loved you. And this… this is what you give me?”

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Orlando snapped. “I’ve made up my mind. Just sign the papers.”

Jeany looked at me, her eyes brimming with smug triumph. “You know, Paula, you were never right for Orlando. You’re too… ordinary. Me? I gave him everything he ever wanted.”

Before I could respond, another pair of footsteps echoed through the room—sharp, authoritative, and chilling.

It was Mrs. Farah. My mother-in-law. She entered the room dressed in her usual designer clothes, her expression frosty and condescending as always. But this time, her eyes were filled with open disdain.

“I don’t understand why you’re still here, Paula,” she said sharply. “Orlando has been more than patient with you. Five years and you couldn’t even give him a child. That’s your biggest failure.”

I stared at her, wounded and stunned. “But… Mother, it’s not something I chose. I’ve seen so many doctors, I’ve tried everything. You know I did all I could. And now… this is what I get?”

I saw Orlando hand the baby back to the nanny.

“You don’t need to drag this out, Paula,” he said, almost like he was bored. “Just sign the papers. I’m not divorcing you without compensation.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “You honestly think that makes this okay? That money is a valid reason to destroy our marriage?”

“Reason?” Mrs. Farah cut in, her voice laced with scorn. “Don’t you get it? You’ve been holding Orlando back. Jeany is the woman he should’ve married from the start.”

I shook my head slowly, feeling like I’d fallen into a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

“Orlando, is this really what you want? You’re just going to let them destroy everything we built? You’re going to stand there and let them talk to me like this?”

But Orlando didn’t move. He didn’t speak. He didn’t even flinch.

And that silence… hurt more than any word ever could.

“Do you... not love me?” I asked Orlando, my voice trembling.

But he said nothing—his eyes darted everywhere, avoiding mine, as if looking for a way out.

“Did you never love me at all, Orlando?”

I couldn’t do this—not without hearing the truth from his own mouth. “Answer me, damn it!”

I stepped closer and slapped him, hard. I wasn’t normally like this. With Orlando, I had always softened my voice, always tried to be gentle. With others, I made an effort to be polite—not out of obligation, but because my mother taught me that kind words avoid conflict, and violence solves nothing.

But today, I broke that rule. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

I watched as Orlando wiped a trace of blood from the corner of his mouth. I felt nothing. No guilt. No remorse. Whatever pain he felt—it was nothing compared to what he’d done to me.

“Why won’t you answer me?” I demanded, my voice breaking. I stepped back, the tears pouring down my cheeks without end.

“You know what, Orlando? I loved you more than you’ll ever understand. But you... you didn’t just break my heart. You shattered my belief in love itself.”

Jeany let out a quiet laugh, looking at me like I was some pathetic fool. “Maybe it’s time you learned that love alone isn’t enough to make someone stay.”

Orlando still didn’t speak. He simply pushed the divorce papers closer, like he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

“That’s enough talking. Just sign it,” he said, cold and emotionless.

I drew in a shaky breath. Every inhale felt like a stab in the chest. “If this is what you want, Orlando, then I’ll go. But just remember—I’ll never forget what you did to me today.”

My hand trembled as I picked up the pen that lay beside the documents. I signed my name—every letter carved with pain. I forced myself to remember this moment, every cruel stare, every ounce of contempt they showed me.

As if I was nothing. As if I deserved to be discarded.

“You got what you wanted, Orlando.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I hope you're happy.”

Then I turned around and walked away, leaving them behind. But inside, I knew—this wound would take a long, long time to heal. In the car, I broke down completely. I couldn’t even recall the moment I started the engine. All I remembered was driving—fast, frantic—trying to escape the nightmare that had just unfolded.

And then...

A white car appeared in front of me. The crash came in a blur—loud, violent. I screamed as the car spun out of control, twisting again and again...

And then—Darkness.