Nothing Left For Us のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Lucas didn't leave South City.The residency program hosted a public seminar once a week. So he made his reservation three days in advance and arrived a full three hours early on the day of the event.The art center only had one public entrance.He sat in the main lobby, positioned so anyone entering or leaving passed through his line of sight.At 2 p.m., the seminar officially began. Through the closed doors of the auditorium, he heard the host call out Emma's name.Applause rippled through the room.Lucas instinctively stepped forward, then forced himself to stop.For seven years, he had watched her countless times waiting for him at the dinner table, yet he had never truly stepped into her art or her life. Now that she was finally back in the spotlight, he was too terrified that pushing the door open would only make him an intrusion.He didn't go in.After all, he had promised not to bother Emma. He only wanted to catch a glimpse of her from afar when the event wrapped up.

The divorce mediation was set to take place online.Ava had made it clear beforehand that Emma would only participate remotely and not engage in any private conversation with Lucas.Before the mediation session began, Lucas checked his camera and network connection repeatedly. He wasn't holding out hope that she would turn back to him; he just wanted to lay eyes on that face he hadn't seen in over a month.Once the meeting connected, both the mediator’s and Ava’s video feeds were crystal clear.Ava occasionally glanced toward the other side of her screen, clearly able to see Emma without any issue. The mediator also asked Emma to hold her ID up to the lens to verify her identity.Yet right in front of Lucas, the window belonging to her was pitch black."Ms. Swift, can you hear us on your end?""Yes, I can." Her voice filtered through the speakers.Lucas' breath hitched.The mediator confirmed that her video feed was working fine and that everyone else could see her.Only on L

The storm on the internet quickly spilled over to me.Some people dug up my old art sketches, leaving endless comments asking if I was the discarded ex-wife. Others even blocked the entrance to the project studio, holding up their phones to demand why I refused to forgive a man who was simply "helping the vulnerable".I didn't step forward to clarify things for Lucas, nor did I respond to any of the online speculation surrounding our marriage.I knew far too well what a so-called clarification would turn into.The moment I said he hadn't committed physical infidelity, everyone would automatically assume that every other form of hurt could be forgiven. And the moment I admitted he used to love me, strangers would take it upon themselves to decide that this marriage was still worth saving.But whether or not there was physical betrayal had never been the sole reason I chose to leave.Ava issued a statement on my behalf, announcing that divorce proceedings were underway while demand

Lucas arrived in South City two days before the art exhibition opening.He checked all the public exits of the gallery in advance, even booking a hotel room across the street with a direct view of the main entrance.On opening day, he was already sitting in the first-floor lobby at 6 a.m.The security staff changed shifts twice, yet he never left his spot.When staff members asked if he needed early access, he shook his head, repeatedly folding and refolding an apology letter in his hands.The letter contained no pleas for forgiveness, nor did it list the heavy prices he had paid.He simply admitted his mistakes point by point—breaking their anniversary dinner plans, indulging Ben as he destroyed her grandmother's silver comb, choosing to believe Hallie when Emma was hurt, and letting her walk away alone that final morning.He brought no flowers or expensive gifts. All he had was a sincere apology letter in his pocket that he had rewritten countless times.Even if he was destin

Even after the divorce officially took effect, Lucas still couldn't completely let go of that elusive final meeting.He stopped tracking down my private whereabouts, but he kept a close eye on the public tour dates released for my picture book project.The first stop was in Lanford.He arrived a day early, even walking the route from his hotel to the venue by following his GPS. That night, however, a main pipe burst, forcing the organizers to switch venues at the last minute.Staff members posted a notice right below the old announcement board, but the gushing water quickly soaked the paper, smudging the handwriting beyond recognition.By the time the online information was updated, the sharing session had already wrapped up. When he finally rushed to the new location, he caught sight only of the staff dismantling the backdrop bearing my name.The second stop was Alicante.He bought a front-row ticket, double-checking in advance that I would definitely be attending the book sign