Chapter 2 After The Divorce

The moment Yvonne stepped out of the civil office, the wind brushed against her face, cool and steady.

She tightened her grip on the divorce certificate in her hand. The paper felt light, almost insignificant, yet it marked the end of three years of her life.

No argument. No tears. No one trying to stop the other.

Just signatures, stamps, and silence.

Yvonne drew in a slow breath and walked forward without looking back.

Behind her, Adrian Blake stood beside his car, his gaze fixed on her retreating figure as she disappeared into the crowd. A faint tightness settled in his chest, unfamiliar and irritating.

He frowned slightly and forced the feeling away.

Relief. That was all it was.

This marriage had ended exactly as it should have.

Inside the car, his assistant Mark waited.

"Sir, should we head to the company?" Mark asked carefully.

Adrian got in and closed the door.

"Yes."

The car moved smoothly into traffic.

At the next intersection, Adrian's gaze drifted outside without intention.

Yvonne stood at the corner, holding a small suitcase.

She was smiling.

Not bitter. Not forced. Calm.

That expression made his fingers tighten slightly against his knee.

He looked away immediately, his voice turning cold.

"She's good at pretending. She always has been."

Mark said nothing. He had learned long ago that silence was safest.

Yvonne hailed a taxi and gave the driver an address on the east side of the city.

The building she arrived at was old but clean, with faded walls and narrow stairways. It was nothing like the Blake villa.

She stood outside for a moment, looking up at it.

Then she smiled.

This place had no memories of waiting, no cold dinners, no empty nights.

It was enough.

Inside, the apartment was quiet. Sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating dust floating lazily in the air.

Yvonne placed her suitcase down and sat on the floor.

For a moment, she kept her expression steady.

Then it broke.

Tears fell silently as she lowered her head, her shoulders trembling slightly.

She did not make a sound.

There was no one to hear it anyway.

When the tears finally stopped, she wiped her face and stood up slowly.

"Enough," she murmured to herself.

She walked to the table and opened the small box she had brought with her.

Inside lay her medical license.

Her fingers hovered over it before she picked it up carefully.

Three years ago, she had left everything behind for that marriage. Her career, her identity, her future.

Now she was holding the one thing she had not completely lost.

"I'm going back," she said quietly.

That afternoon, she made a call.

The line connected quickly.

"Hello?"

"Auntie, it's me."

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a sharp breath.

"Yvonne? Is that really you?"

"Yes."

"Where have you been all these years? Do you know how worried I was?"

"I'm sorry. I'll explain everything when we meet."

Another pause, softer this time.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Come to the hospital. I'll wait for you."

After the call ended, Yvonne closed her eyes briefly.

Tomorrow would be the beginning.

Back at the Blake villa, Adrian stepped inside and paused.

The house was dark.

He frowned and turned on the lights. The brightness revealed an emptiness that felt different from before.

Too quiet.

He walked upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door.

The closet was half empty.

The dresser had been cleared.

Even the bathroom shelf no longer held her things.

Everything was neat, organized, and final.

"She moved out quickly," he muttered.

That was good. That was how it should be.

He sat on the bed and took out his phone.

There were no messages.

No missed calls.

For three years, she had sent messages every day without fail.

Have you eaten?

Are you coming home?

Take care of yourself.

He opened the chat window.

It was silent.

His thumb hovered for a second before he locked the screen.

"She agreed to the divorce," he said to himself. "This is what she wanted."

Still, the unease in his chest did not fade.

The next morning, Yvonne stood in front of Bright Star Private Hospital.

The building stood tall and familiar, its glass doors reflecting the city around it.

For a moment, she simply looked at it.

Then she walked inside.

The smell of disinfectant and the sound of hurried footsteps surrounded her immediately.

Doctors and nurses moved quickly through the halls, focused and efficient.

It felt like stepping into a life she had once belonged to.

"Yvonne."

She turned.

A woman in her fifties approached her with steady steps, her sharp eyes softening slightly.

"Auntie Lin."

The older woman pulled her into a firm embrace.

"You've gotten thinner," she said, looking her over carefully. "And older."

Yvonne smiled faintly. "I'm fine."

Auntie Lin studied her face for a moment before speaking again.

"You got divorced."

It was not a question.

Yvonne nodded.

"I told you before," Auntie Lin said with a quiet sigh. "Marrying out of gratitude never ends well."

"I know."

"Come with me."

Inside the office, Auntie Lin poured her a cup of tea and sat across from her.

"So what are your plans now?"

"I want to return to work," Yvonne said. "If the hospital will accept me."

Auntie Lin let out a short laugh.

"You think I would let someone like you go?"

Yvonne blinked in surprise.

"I kept your position open," Auntie Lin continued. "I knew you would come back eventually."

Yvonne's throat tightened.

"Thank you."

"You'll start next week," she said. "But not in your old role."

Yvonne looked up.

"You'll take over as head of the emergency department."

Yvonne froze.

"That's too much. I've been away for years."

"You never stopped studying," Auntie Lin replied calmly. "Your records speak for themselves. And I trust you."

Yvonne lowered her gaze, emotion rising in her chest again, but this time it was different.

Not pain.

Something stronger.

"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll do it."

That evening, Adrian attended a formal dinner.

Sophia sat beside him, elegant and composed.

"You look tired," she said gently. "Are you still adjusting to living alone?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm glad everything is settled," she continued. "It's better this way."

Adrian nodded.

"Yes."

But when he returned home, the villa felt colder than before.

He stood in the living room, his gaze drifting to the dining table.

For a moment, a memory surfaced.

A bowl of soup, placed there every night.

No matter how late he returned.

He had rarely touched it.

Now there was nothing.

No light left on.

No one waiting.

Only silence.

A faint unease settled deeper in his chest.

A week later, Yvonne stood in front of the mirror in her new apartment.

She adjusted the white coat on her shoulders and looked at her reflection.

Doctor Yvonne Carter.

Not Mrs Blake.

A small, steady smile formed on her lips.

"Welcome back."

At the hospital, the emergency department was already busy.

"Doctor Carter, room three needs you," a nurse called.

"I'm coming."

Yvonne walked quickly down the corridor, her movements confident and focused.

As she passed the glass wall near the entrance, a familiar figure caught her attention.

She slowed.

Adrian Blake stood there, tall and composed, scanning the area impatiently.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, everything stilled.

Shock flashed across his face.

"You," he said.

Yvonne stopped in front of him, her expression calm.

"Mr Blake, please wait outside. You're blocking the passage."

He stared at her, disbelief clear in his eyes.

"You're a doctor?"

"Yes."

His gaze dropped to her name badge.

Doctor Yvonne Carter.

Something in his expression changed.

Before he could say anything else, a nurse rushed over.

"Doctor Carter, the patient's condition is critical."

Yvonne turned immediately.

"I'm on my way."

She walked past Adrian without hesitation and entered the emergency room.

Adrian remained where he stood, his mind struggling to process what he had just seen.

The woman who used to wait for him at home...

The woman who revolved her life around him...

Had walked past him without even a pause.

For the first time, a thought crossed his mind that he could not ignore.

He might have made a mistake.

And for the first time, he did not know how to fix it.