Woke Up to Divorce Papers

Never thought one stupid fall would erase five years of my life. I came to with divorce papers in my lap—from Aiden Harrison, the guy I'd been crushing on forever. And yeah, he thought I'd cheated.Last clear memory? Graduation night. I finally had the guts to tell him. He was by the pool, champagne in hand, moonlight catching that smug grin. My heels clicked on the marble as I headed over——and boom. Slip. Skull meets stone steps. Lights out.When I opened my eyes again, I was on some leather couch, head splitting. Floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan skyline blazing. Whole place screamed rich guy drama."You're awake."That voice. I twisted around. Aiden sat behind some sleek desk, rocking a tailored suit, looking older, sharper—colder. A platinum ring caught the light.My stomach tanked. Married."Aiden?" I rubbed my head. "Where even are we? What happened?"He tossed a file down, eyes like ice. "Nice try. Getting drunk to stall the papers? Not gonna stop the divorce."Divor

I spent the whole day trying to stitch my memory back together—like a puzzle missing half the pieces.One thing was clear: I was still Sophia. Aiden Harrison was still Aiden Harrison. We were married—the photo over the fireplace proved it. We had Oliver.But the divorce papers on the coffee table screamed otherwise. Something had gone seriously wrong.The question that wouldn't leave me alone: Did I actually cheat?No way. Why would I throw away Aiden—still stupidly handsome, killing it at his firm, a dad who clearly adored Oliver—for anyone else?And who the hell was this so-called artist buddy?I paced the living room, frustrated at the gaping hole in my memory. This fancy Upper East Side apartment felt more like a museum of someone else's life—familiar, but off."Mommy?"Oliver stood in the doorway, clutching his teddy."Daddy said your hand needs disinfecting." He walked in carefully, holding out a bottle of rubbing alcohol. "He told me to bring this to you."I reached fo

After my shower, I threw on oversized shirt—Aiden's, probably—and padded to Oliver's room.Space wallpaper, shelves crammed with books and toys. He was out cold, clutching his teddy.I tugged the blanket higher. His little hand caught my finger."Mommy... don't go..." he mumbled.Tears stung. I sat on the edge of his bed until his grip loosened.Closing the door, I froze. Aiden was in the hall.Dim light. Barely a foot between us. His body wash—cedar and mint—hit me."You were in there a while," he said."I was just... watching him sleep.""You never used to do that."There it was again—'used to.' Who the hell had I been?"Aiden," I asked, looking up, "were we... happy before?"He stayed quiet so long I thought he'd leave me hanging."We were," he said at last. "We were really happy.""What changed?""You did." His fingers grazed my cheek, so soft it stung. "Success changed you. Fame changed you. You started living in clubs and online... and I was just a boring lawyer wh

I took Oliver to Central Park. December was freezing, but the sun was out. We fed pigeons, hit the playground, grabbed hot chocolate and donuts."Mom," Oliver said, frosting smeared on his lip, "you never used to take me out like this.""What did I do before?"He thought. "Work. Always working. Or going to parties with your friends."Parties? That French artist? Who was I?"Oliver... was I good to you before?"He ducked his head. "You were always busy. And... kinda mean."Kids don't lie. My chest ripped open."I'm sorry, baby." I hugged him close. "Mom's gonna spend more time with you now."We were passing Fifth Avenue when Oliver pointed at the Plaza Hotel."Mom, this is your favorite place!""What?""You always went to the Blue Bar here to drink. Last time Aunt Sarah took me by, we saw you dancing inside."My stomach dropped."Can we go in?" I asked. I didn't even know why—I just needed answers.The second we hit the lobby, the bar manager spotted me."Mrs. Harrison!"

On the drive back, Oliver passed out in his car seat, cheeks pink, fries still in his hand.I lingered by the car, replaying how Victoria leaned across Aiden's desk—way too close. Instead of climbing up front, I reached for the back door.Aiden's voice cut in, sharp."What, I'm your Uber now?"I froze."I just wanted to sit with Oliver.""Front seat."No arguing. I walked around and buckled in.Oliver's soft breathing filled the car, the silence between me and Aiden pressing in.I glanced at him. Sunlight caught his face, sharp and golden, like the way he used to look studying in the library.Back then I'd just watched from a distance. Now we had a kid. And a divorce.Life was twisted like that."Aiden," I said, "why'd you marry me?"The thought had chased me all day. He could've had someone like Victoria—perfect resume, perfect family.So why me? The random junior he probably barely noticed?His fingers drummed the wheel, that little tell he always had when thinking."