Chapter 3

The air in the bedroom crackled with a sudden, profound silence.

Mark stared at her, his face illuminated by the faint moonlight.

"What did you just say?" he finally managed, his voice a low growl.

"I said, I want a divorce, Mark."

He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Are you insane? You're throwing a tantrum over some stupid jewelry? Over Jessica getting a job?"

Sarah reached over to the nightstand and picked up a folded document. She'd retrieved it from her lawyer that afternoon.

She held it out to him. "These are the papers. I already signed them."

Mark looked from the papers to her face, a dawning realization mixed with disbelief.

"You had these drawn up? When?"

"This afternoon."

He let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "You think this is a game, Sarah? You think you can just wave some papers around and I'll what? Beg you to stay? Apologize for trying to help my family?"

He snatched the papers from her hand.

"Fine," he spat, his eyes blazing. He clicked on the bedside lamp, grabbed a pen from the drawer. "You want a divorce? Let's see you actually go through with this."

He scrawled his signature across the bottom line with angry, slashing strokes.

Then he threw the papers and the pen onto the bed.

"There. Happy now?"

He stood up, grabbed his pillow, and stormed out of the bedroom, presumably to the spare room or the couch. He was still convinced this was a dramatic, empty gesture on her part.

Sarah watched him go, a cold ache in her chest.

She picked up the pen, her hand trembling slightly. With a deep, shuddering breath, she added her own signature beneath his.

It was done.

Painful, yes, but necessary.

This wasn't how she'd imagined it in her "rebirth" moment. She'd thought, foolishly, that maybe they could have an amicable split, a quiet unravelling.

But Mark, in his arrogance and blindness, had forced this uglier path.

The next morning, Sarah took the signed divorce papers to Captain Eva Rostova's office at the National Guard base.

Captain Rostova was Mark's direct superior, a no-nonsense woman known for her fairness.

Sarah explained the situation calmly, presented the mutually signed agreement.

Captain Rostova listened without interruption, her expression unreadable.

"Major Johnson signed this willingly?" she asked, her gaze sharp.

"Yes, Captain. Last night."

Rostova nodded slowly. "Alright, Mrs. Johnson. I'll ensure this is processed through the appropriate channels. The base legal aid can finalize it. It should be straightforward since it's uncontested."

She gave Sarah a brief, almost imperceptible nod of understanding. "You'll be informed once it's finalized. Usually a few weeks, given current backlogs."

"Thank you, Captain."

Sarah walked out of the base, a strange lightness in her step.

Soon. Soon she would be free.

Days passed. Mark was mostly absent, busy with pre-deployment drills for an upcoming extended training exercise out of state.

When he was home, the tension was thick, but he never mentioned the divorce papers. He was clearly waiting for her to break, to apologize, to retract her "bluff."

The day before he was due to leave for the training, he found her packing a small suitcase.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes wary.

"Just a few things," Sarah said vaguely.

"Look, Sarah," he began, his voice softening slightly. "While I'm gone, can you keep an eye on Jessica and Leo? Just make sure they're okay. With me away, she'll be feeling more alone."

His persistent, oblivious prioritization of Jessica still managed to astound her.

Even now, with divorce papers signed, his concern was for Jessica.

Sarah looked at him, a man she no longer recognized, or perhaps, a man she was finally seeing clearly.

"Sure, Mark," she said, her voice devoid of inflection. "I'll check in on them."

He seemed surprised by her easy compliance. "Oh. Good. Thanks."

He hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but then his phone buzzed. A call from his unit.

"Gotta take this," he said, already turning away. "I'll see you when I get back. We can... talk then."

He left for his training exercise without another word about their separation.

Sarah's birthday arrived a week later. Mark was gone.

In her past life, she'd waited by the phone, hoping for a call, a card, any acknowledgment. It had never come.

This year, she didn't wait.

She called her parents in Chicago, told them her plans were moving forward. They were overjoyed, offering support, a place to stay.

She bought herself a small cake and a single candle. She ate a slice, not with loneliness, but with a quiet sense of anticipation for her new life. Longevity noodles for one, symbolizing a fresh start.

Life fell into a routine. Work, packing, making arrangements.

One afternoon, leaving school, she saw Jessica Evans across the street, exiting a local boutique.

Jessica was showing off a new, expensive-looking designer scarf to another teacher.

"Mark picked it out for me," Jessica was saying, her voice carrying across the quiet street. "He was on a training trip in Denver last month and saw it. Isn't he the sweetest?"

Denver. Mark had been there for a leadership conference. He hadn't mentioned buying any gifts.

Sarah felt a familiar pang, not of jealousy, but of bitter confirmation.

He'd returned from that trip and given Sarah nothing. Not even a word about it.

But it didn't matter anymore. The divorce should be final any day now. She just had to hold on.

She tried to turn away, to avoid an encounter, but Jessica spotted her.

A sly smile touched Jessica's lips. She walked purposefully towards Sarah.

"Sarah! Just the person. Mark's back in town, you know. He got in last night."

Sarah nodded, keeping her expression neutral. "Oh?"

"Yes! And he was asking what he got you for your birthday. I told him I wasn't sure." Jessica's eyes gleamed with poorly concealed malice. "So? What wonderful, thoughtful gift did your loving husband get you this year?"

The question was a deliberate prod, designed to humiliate. Jessica knew Mark was neglectful.

Sarah felt a surge of defiance. She wouldn't give Jessica the satisfaction.

"Oh, something incredible," Sarah said, forcing a bright smile. "A beautiful diamond tennis bracelet. He said he'd been saving up for months. It's being resized."

Mark Johnson, who barely remembered her birthday, buying her a diamond tennis bracelet? The lie was audacious, but it was all she had.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the air, sharp and angry.

"A diamond tennis bracelet? Sarah, what the hell are you talking about? I never bought you any damn bracelet!"

Mark stood there, his face thunderous, having just rounded the corner.