Effie showed up at the courthouse entrance, dressed impeccably, though faint dark circles betrayed a sleepless night.We spoke only as needed, proceeding to finalize the divorce.The process was smooth as silk, and by that afternoon, the paperwork was stamped and official.I glanced at her, expecting relief or disdain. Instead, she looked lost.I didn't bother to dissect why she'd suddenly agreed to this. Maybe she was just fed up with me, or perhaps she'd spent the night tangled up with Kevin.Whatever the reason, the divorce was done, and that was all that mattered.Kevin came to pick her up, decked out in a sharp suit like a groom.With our marriage officially kaput, he dropped the nice-guy act, his smirk practically screaming victory."You're gonna regret letting Effie slip through your fingers," he said, raising her chin.I didn't dignify that with a response.Effie's gaze was hard to read. She opened her mouth, trying to say something, but I walked away without looking
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