All Chapters of Painful Divorce : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

After finishing her water, Jessica returned to the living room to play with Anya. She helped build a little house out of sofa cushions, made a tiny blanket from a handkerchief, and drew windows on paper that they then taped to the sides of the “house.”As midday came and the sun grew hotter, Anya yawned several times. Jessica led her to the bedroom, laying her down in her arms and humming a soft song.Gradually, Anya drifted off to sleep.Jessica stayed there, staring at the plain white ceiling. She felt like the room itself—calm, without unnecessary decorations, but enough.By late afternoon, her phone rang softly. She stepped out of the room so as not to wake Anya. On the screen, Kevin’s name appeared. Jessica stared at it for a few seconds before answering.“Hello?”“Hi, Jess…” Kevin’s voice was cautious. “Can we talk for a bit?”Jessica hesitated. “Now?

The day moved slowly. Jessica washed clothes, hung them to dry, swept the porch, then sat on the long bench reading a book she had abandoned long ago. Beside her, Anya fell asleep with her head on Jessica’s lap.By late afternoon, clouds hung low in the sky. The wind carried the scent of rain, and the faint sound of thunder rumbled in the distance. But Jessica didn’t go inside. She stayed there, holding Anya close, letting everything remain still.When the drizzle finally came, she simply lowered her head slightly, kissing the crown of Anya’s head. “Thank you for coming into Auntie’s life,” she whispered.Inside the house, Randy opened a window and called out, “Jessica, it’s raining…”Jessica turned. “Just a little longer, Dad. Let it be for now.”Randy let her be.Because he knew—sometimes what we need isn’t shelter from the rain, but the courage to stand b

Sometimes, watching Anya play like that made Jessica’s heart ache. Not from sadness, but from a small beauty born of loss. As if this child, in her own way, was re-stitching a life once torn apart—and the thread she used wasn’t anger, nor sorrow, but simple love.“This is the doctor, Auntie,” Anya said, pointing to a small teddy bear. “His name is Dito.”Jessica smiled. “Is the doctor nice?”“Very nice. He doesn’t like giving shots. He says medicine can be hugs instead.”Jessica set her tea on the table and moved to the floor, sitting beside Anya. “Can I join the game?”Anya nodded eagerly, handing her the rabbit doll. “This rabbit has a stomachache. She misses her mom.”Jessica caught her breath. But she didn’t shy away. She nodded slowly, then hugged the doll. “I sometimes get a stomachache because I miss someone too.”A

The sun slowly dipped behind the rooftops of the neighboring houses, painting the sky in soft shades of orange. Its golden light touched the small road in front of Randy’s house, reflecting in the thin puddles left by yesterday’s rain. The atmosphere seemed to slow. As if the day was reluctant to truly leave.Jessica stayed leaning against her father’s shoulder. There was no sound except the rustle of the wind through the leaves and the evening birds calling to one another. The scent of damp earth and warm coffee blended into a calm backdrop.Randy watched the sky as it began to change colors. His eyes narrowed slightly, measuring time with the calm only those who had made peace with much loss could possess. He didn’t speak, but his hand stayed on Jessica’s back, signaling that he was there—that he would remain there.Jessica took a deep breath, then slowly lifted her head. She looked ahead, at the quiet street where only the

That night before closing her eyes, she stared at the ceiling and whispered, “Thank you.” To whoever, to whatever, to all that had been and all that would come. Outside, the moon still hung in the sky. Silent. Faithful. The night still whole, like a heart learning to trust again.Morning arrived gently—not in a rush, not with a jolt. Sunlight seeped through Jessica’s curtains, warm and slow on her skin. Birdsong drifted from afar, and the smell of wet grass wafted in from the back garden. Jessica opened her eyes slowly. Still half-asleep, she listened to the familiar quiet. The house wasn’t fully awake yet, but life had already begun moving inside it. She sat at the edge of the bed, feet touching the cool wooden floor, and drew in a deep breath. No urgency. No heavy weight in her chest. Just the morning—and herself—fully present.She stepped into the bathroom, washed her face, and tied her hair loosely. In the mirror, her face