Chapter 3

Grover stared at the tablet in my hand, his mouth agape. His eyes darted to my signature, then back to my face, a mask of dawning horror. "Mrs. Woods... you... you can't be serious. This needs Mr. Woods' signature, not yours! He might not even acknowledge this! He might..."

"He might object?" I cut him off, my voice calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the storm raging within me. "Then call him. Tell him. Tell him his 'cargo' has taken matters into her own hands."

Grover hesitated for only a second, his terror of Collin warring with the immediate, chilling finality in my eyes. He pulled out his phone, his fingers fumbling as he dialed. I watched him, my heart a trapped bird hammering against its cage.

A tiny, foolish part of me still hoped. Hoped Collin would deny it, would rush back, eyes filled with some semblance of love or even just basic human decency. That he would declare this whole sordid arrangement a misunderstanding, a joke gone wrong. Five years of marriage, a child... surely that meant something? Surely he would regret it, regret the look on my face, the silent accusation in my eyes.

He would come back. He had to.

The phone rang for what felt like an eternity. Then, Collin' s voice, rough and irritated, boomed from the speaker, making Grover flinch. "What is it, Grover? I told you not to bother me unless it was an absolute emergency!"

"Sir, it's... it's about the arrangement," Grover stammered, his voice barely a squeak. "Mr. Salazar is almost here, and... and Mrs. Woods insists on signing the agreement herself."

A beat of silence. Then, Collin let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Elena? Signing? What the hell is she playing at? Is she with you now? Put her on the phone!"

Grover glanced at me, his eyes pleading. I shook my head slightly, a silent command. He turned back to the phone. "She... she says she's prepared to fulfill the arrangement, sir. To ensure the deal goes through."

"What? She thinks she can just waltz in and take over?" Collin' s voice was laced with scorn. "She has no idea what Eli Salazar is like. He's a shark. He'll eat her alive." He paused, and I heard a muffled giggle in the background, a woman' s soft sigh. Brittnie. "Fine. Whatever. Just get it done. I'm busy. Send me the digital signature request for her, and for the divorce papers. My lawyer sent them over an hour ago. I need to e-sign both."

Divorce papers. He had them ready. An hour ago. While I was putting on the crimson dress, imagining our rekindled passion. While I was getting ready for him. He was getting ready to discard me.

The last flicker of hope in my chest died. It wasn't a death, but an execution. Cold. Clinical. Utterly without mercy.

My vision blurred, but no tears fell. Not yet. Not for him. I would not give him the satisfaction.

"Grover," I said, my voice cutting through the ringing in my ears. "Send him the divorce papers. Now. I want this over."

Grover, startled, fumbled with the tablet. "But... Mrs. Woods, Mr. Woods is on the phone with..."

"Just do it," I snapped, my patience gone, replaced by a steely resolve.

He typed furiously, his face a mixture of fear and bewilderment. A moment later, Collin's voice boomed again, louder this time, infused with a fresh wave of irritation. "What? More papers? Grover, if you keep interrupting me, I swear to God, I'll have your head. Just send them. I don't care what they are. Just make it quick."

Then, a sudden, sharp gasp from the background, unmistakably Brittnie's. "Oh, Collin, baby! You're so fast!"

And Collin's voice, husky and thick with desire, "Anything for my queen."

A low electronic beep signaled the successful e-signature. My divorce was finalized. Just like that. A cold, distant transaction.

Then, the phone call ended abruptly. A click, a harsh, final sound. Like a door slamming shut. Or a life.

Silence. The kind that screams. The kind that echoes in the hollow chambers of a broken heart. I stood there, utterly numb, the tablet still in my hand. Five years. Five years of my life, my love, my loyalty. Reduced to a few lines of legalese and a hurried e-signature. All while he was with her, promising her my life, and making crude jokes about my ambition.

My throat tightened. A single, scalding tear tracked a path down my cheek, cold and shocking against my skin. Then another. And another. They came unbidden, a betrayal from my own body. My face felt frozen, rigid, but the tears kept flowing, a silent testament to the wreckage of my world. I didn't even realize I was crying until the chill on my cheek registered.