Chapter 1

The judge' s voice was a low drone in the quiet courtroom, a final, formal sound that settled the dust on a life I no longer recognized. He stamped the papers with a heavy thud, and the sound echoed in the mostly empty room.

Divorce granted.

I stared at the empty chair beside my lawyer. Daniel Hayes was not here. Of course, he wasn' t. Duty had called, as it always did. A last-minute training exercise, his lawyer had explained, his voice smooth and unapologetic.

I almost laughed. It was a bitter, ugly feeling in my throat. Even at the very end, his duty came first.

I stood up, my legs feeling strangely weak. My lawyer gave my shoulder a supportive squeeze. "It's over, Eleanor. You're free."

Free. The word felt foreign. I walked out of the courthouse and into the blinding afternoon sun, feeling nothing but a vast, hollow emptiness.

Two weeks earlier, I was packing up my desk at the fire station. It was my last day. The familiar scent of engine oil and stale coffee hung in the air. My locker was almost empty, just a few personal items left in a cardboard box.

"Vance, you sure you want to transfer to that little town? Nothing ever happens there," one of my colleagues, Mike, called out from across the room.

I forced a small smile. "A quiet life sounds good right now."

He shrugged, accepting my answer without question. These men were my family, my brothers in the field. They knew I was going through a rough patch, but they didn't pry. They just offered silent support, a shared cup of coffee, a clap on the back after a tough call. I would miss them terribly.

I picked up a small, framed photo from the box. It was of me and Daniel, taken on a rare day off. We were smiling, his arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. He looked so handsome in his uniform, his eyes filled with a light I hadn't seen in years. I ran my thumb over his face before flipping the photo face down and placing it back in the box.

I was heading home to my small apartment, the one I' d rented after leaving the house we were supposed to share, when I saw him. Daniel was standing by my apartment building's entrance, blocking the door. He was in his full dress uniform, looking every bit the respected military captain he was.

My heart gave a painful thud against my ribs.

"Eleanor," he said, his voice low and strained.

"Let me pass, Daniel," I said, my own voice tight.

"We need to talk."

"There's nothing left to talk about. You got the papers." I tried to push past him, but he put a hand on the doorframe, stopping me.

"I didn't sign them."

"Then my lawyer will handle it."

His jaw tightened. "Why are you doing this? After everything."

"Everything?" A laugh, sharp and without humor, escaped my lips. "What everything, Daniel? The secret wedding? The years of me hiding in the shadows because you couldn't tell your precious niece you had a wife?"

He flinched. "It's not that simple. You know Olivia's situation."

"I know she's a grown woman who has you wrapped around her little finger. And I know you let her."

We stood there in a tense standoff, the silence thick with unspoken resentments. Then, his eyes softened, a flicker of the man I had fallen in love with. "Eleanor... today is your birthday."

I froze. I had completely forgotten. In the chaos of the divorce and the transfer, my own birthday had slipped my mind.

He pulled a small, clumsily wrapped box from his pocket. "I remembered. I wanted to surprise you, take you out to that restaurant you like."

A tiny, fragile bit of hope began to bloom in my chest, a hope I had tried so hard to kill. Maybe... maybe he was finally ready to choose me.

Then his phone rang. He glanced at the screen, and the soft look in his eyes vanished, replaced by immediate concern.

"Olivia? What's wrong?" He listened for a moment, his face growing more and more grim. "Okay, okay, don't cry. I'm on my way. I'll be right there."

He hung up and looked at me, his expression a mixture of apology and resignation. "I have to go. Olivia... she's having a panic attack."

The hope inside me withered and died. It was always Olivia.

"Of course," I said, my voice flat and lifeless. "Go. Your niece needs you."

He hesitated, holding out the box. "Eleanor..."

"Go, Daniel."

He finally retreated, leaving me alone in the hallway. I didn't take the box.

That night, the nightmare came back. It was always the same. I was drowning in a deep, dark lake, my limbs heavy, my lungs screaming for air. Daniel was on the shore, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at Olivia, who was crying on the grass. He was so focused on her, he didn't even notice I was disappearing beneath the water.

I woke up gasping, my shirt soaked in cold sweat.

That was it. That was the moment I knew I was done. I couldn't spend the rest of my life fighting for a breath of his attention. I couldn't keep drowning.

The next morning, I called my lawyer. "File the divorce papers," I told him. "Cite irreconcilable differences. And I want the transfer to the new station expedited."

I spent the rest of the day in a daze, finalizing the last of my packing. I was taping up the final box when a key turned in my lock.

The door swung open, and Daniel strode in, his face set in a hard line. And right behind him, holding onto his arm like a lifeline, was Olivia. She looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent, but I saw the triumphant little smirk she couldn't quite hide. They had invaded my space, my last little sanctuary, and the final, brutal chapter of my marriage was about to begin.