"Hello, I'm looking to get a divorce."

In my third year of marriage, and I finally decided to divorce Julian—without him knowing.

Lewis Fitzroy, the lawyer across from me, listened closely. “To get divorced, both spouses have to sign the papers. Then there’s a 30-day waiting period. Why isn’t your husband here?”

I was silent for a while before replying, "I'll make sure he signs it."

"I'll draft the divorce agreement, then."

After waiting a while, I got the agreement.

As I walked downstairs with my head down, I replayed everything that happened lately in my head.

Just as I reached the front desk, a familiar voice stopped me.

"Lia? What are you doing here?"

When I looked up and met Julian's deep, knowing eyes that could see through every lie, my heart skipped a beat.

The lawyer handling my divorce turned out to be Julian's colleague.

But he would never find out anyway. After all, he never cared about me.

With that thought, I drew in a deep breath, trying to hide the nervous shake in my voice.

"I'm here for a consultation. Oh, and remember that property transfer agreement I told you about? It’s ready—I need your signature.”"

As I spoke, I took out the divorce agreement, flipped straight to the last page, pressed it onto the counter, and handed him a pen.

The last page contained nothing but a signature line. Julian, being a lawyer, instinctively frowned.

He was about to read it through carefully when he caught sight of the his first love Elizabeth near the elevator. He hesitated briefly and grabbed the pen to sign the document.

“Done. If that’s all, you should go home first. I still have work to do.”

The heavy weight in my chest finally lifted—only to be replaced by a wave of crushing disappointment.

If he had looked closer, he would have realized it was not a property transfer but a divorce agreement.

Instead, his attention had shifted to Elizabeth Osborne, who had just walked in.

Looking at that beautiful face, I felt all kinds of things twist in my chest.

I squeezed my bag tight and turned to leave.

As the automatic glass doors slid shut, I heard bits of their conversation.

"Who was that, Jules?"

"A new client who came to inquire about a divorce," Julian replied shortly, but his voice was soft. "You're early. Give me a few minutes, and we'll grab lunch, okay?"

Hearing his gentle voice and seeing the signed divorce agreement in my hands, I smiled bitterly to myself.

Indeed, I came here for divorce.

In a month, Julian would finally get what he wanted.

In truth, Julian and I had gotten married in secret.

No one knew we were married except our families—not even Elizabeth, the girl Julian could never forget.

He was the one who had insisted on keeping the marriage a secret.

We were college classmates. On the first day of school, I fell for him at first sight. I pursued him throughout our four years of college, but he never cared about me.

But I wasn't heartbroken about it.

Even though he turned me down, he never liked anyone else either. I just thought he wasn’t into dating.

After graduation, I got busy with work and he went to grad school. We lost touch, but I never forgot him.

We went our separate ways, but three years later, we met on a blind date.

On our very first meeting, Julian went straight to the point and asked if I wanted to marry him.

I didn’t know why he was in such a rush to marry, but my long-time dream was finally coming true—I was overjoyed. I just thought his family was pushing him, so I said yes without thinking twice.

I only found out his secret little by little after the wedding.

Turns out he did like women—he was just in love with someone he could never have.

It was his best friend's younger sister, Elizabeth.

Julian was five years older than Elizabeth, so she had always treated him like an older brother. His love was destined to be one-sided and impossible.

And Elizabeth never knew how he felt. She married her three-year boyfriend right after graduation.

Julian was crushed. He wanted to get over it fast, and with his parents pressuring him, he married me on impulse.

I was heartbroken when I found out the truth. But I pulled myself together anyway.

After all, I had plenty of time. If I tried hard enough, I was sure I could make him see me.

But during our three years of marriage, Julian stayed cold and distant toward me.

I lost all my confidence when I found his photo album.

The album was full of photos of Elizabeth from age six all the way to 25. It shouldn’t have hurt me that much.

But what if that girl was the love of my husband’s life? And worse—he kept adding to the album even after we got married!

There was no way I could just act like it didn’t bother me.

The very next night, Julian—who never drank—got completely wasted. His normally calm eyes lit up with a weird happiness.

After asking around, I found out Elizabeth had gotten divorced.

I laughed bitterly, and decided I was ending this hopeless marriage for good.

Maybe because of the signed divorce agreement, I felt this weird knot in my chest when I went back to the house we’d shared for three years.

As I looked at the warm home I’d built all by myself, a flood of memories hit me.

My gaze fell on the wedding portrait in the living room, one I had always kept meticulously clean.

Seeing Julian’s forced smile in the photo stung so badly. I couldn’t help but take it down and throw it in the trash.

I spent the rest of the night sorting out our shared assets.

Julian noticed the portrait was gone as soon as he got home. He looked at me, busy writing, frowned, and asked, “Where’s our wedding portrait?”

"The nail came loose. I was afraid it might fall on someone, so I took it down."

Julian didn't ask further. He placed some late-night snacks next to me, then entered the study.

Smelling the strong scent, I stopped what I was doing.

I opened the bag and saw the spicy snacks inside, and my nose stung.

I ate bland food every day for three years because of my stomach problems.

But Julian never noticed.

Before, I would eat it all just to make him happy, no matter how spicy it was.

But now, I just took the bag downstairs and threw it away.

Starting that day, I decided I washed away all the hurt and sadness from this marriage—and got Julian out of my life completely.

It was the middle of the night and I still couldn’t sleep.

I buried my face in the pillow, mind racing, when suddenly Julian’s arm slid around my waist. His breath was hot against my neck. I felt him lean in to kiss me.

Before his lips could reach mine, I pulled him away

He froze. Because in three years of marriage I was always the one reaching for him. He was rarely in the mood, so the fact that he was trying tonight—and I turned him down—threw him off.

“Not in the mood?” he asked quietly.

“I’m on my period.”

It was a lie. He didn’t question it, just gave a soft hum and pulled the blanket up around me like he always did.

He lay there quietly, probably running through his day like he does before falling asleep. Then he remembered.

“That property transfer agreement from earlier—where is it? Let me take a look, make sure everything’s right.”

My heart started hammering. I stared at him in the dark.

“You really want to see it?”

He noticed how tense I was.

His brows furrowed a little, but he nodded anyway.

I paused for a second, then got up to study and came back with the divorce papers.

Right as I was about to hand them over, his phone rang.

He answered immediately.

“Jules! Martin’s drunk again and he’s starting a fight. Please, he’s scaring me!”

That was Elizabeth. And Martin Gibbs—her crazy, violent ex.

Julian’s whole face changed and he was already grabbing his coat, rushing toward the door.

Watching his hurried figure, I called out to him.“Is it that girl who’s getting divorced?”

He paused for half a second. I think he didn’t want me overthinking since it was the middle of the night, so he played it up.

“Yeah. Her drunk ex is outside her door waving a knife. I have to go—something bad could really happen.”

I didn’t try to stop him. Just told him to be careful.

The door shut behind him.

After he left, I didn’t sleep at all. Not even for a minute.

When the sky finally started to lighten, I grabbed my phone to check the time.

That’s when I saw it—Elizabeth had posted a new story. I’d secretly followed her on Instagram two days earlier.

The video showed the sun rising between mountains, golden light spilling everywhere. Excited voices in the background. The camera panned, and for a split second Julian’s profile flashed across the screen.

Caption: “Yesterday’s darkness has ended. Time for a new life ahead.”

My chest tightened so much I could barely breathe.

She’d actually done it. Her divorce was final.

Of course it was. With Julian—one of the best divorce lawyers in the city—helping her, pulling every string and moving heaven and earth because he’d been in love with her for years.

Now that she was single again, it was only a matter of time before Julian would ask for a divorce to be with her.

Even before he brought it up, I could already picture it in my head—him sitting me down, gentle but firm, saying the words I’d been dreading.

I let out a small, bitter laugh at myself. It hurt so badly.

Divorce was something that would happen sooner or later, so I chose to get over it now.

Better to walk away with whatever dignity I had left than wait around to be left behind.

I set the phone down, stood up, and started packing.

Everything couple-I ever bought—the matching mugs, the little throw pillows I’d picked out together, the framed quotes I used to think were romantic—I put it all in a cardboard box and dragged the box downstairs.

Right then Julian walked in. He saw me struggling and hurried over.

“Why are you throwing out so much stuff?”

I kept my eyes down. “We barely use any of it. Better to get rid of it than let it pile up.”

He nodded like that made perfect sense, then took the box from me without another word.

Watching him walk away, I remained calm.

If he just opened it—if he looked inside even for a second—he would see every single thing in there was something I used to treasure. Things I bought because they reminded me of us.

He was smart. Sharp. He would’ve realized something was seriously off. He would ask why I was suddenly clearing out our life like this. We could talked. Maybe even fixed things.

But he didn’t.

He just walked straight to the building trash bin, dropped the whole box in, and turned back around like nothing happened.

That afternoon my computer decided to die on me right in the middle of a deadline. To finish on time, I borrowed Julian’s laptop.

While the files were transferring, a notification popped up on his screen. I clicked it without thinking—it was from the law firm group chat.

“Jules, dinner at the firm tonight. Bring your girlfriend this time?”

My hand trembled a tiny bit when I read it.

Three years married, and he still hadn’t told anyone at work we were together. To them he was single. Always had been.

That’s why nobody recognized me when I showed up at his firm for the divorce consultation. I was just another random woman to them.

Would he actually bring me tonight? Would he finally admit I existed?

I didn’t know and didn’t dare hope.

Next to her, Julian saw the same message on his phone. He immediately looked up at me, as if trying to read my expression.

I forced a small smile.

“You going to take me to dinner tonight?”

It was a direct question. After three years, would he finally admit I'm his wife in front of people?

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

That silence—it felt like someone had stabbed a knife into my chest and was slowly twisting it around.

I swallowed that pain down, pretended it didn’t bother me.

“I already made plans anyway,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Even if you wanted to bring me, I probably wouldn’t have time.”

His shoulders relaxed a little. The tension drained from his face.

“I’ll bring you next time, okay?”

I didn’t answer.

Next time? There won’t be a next time, Julian.

That night Julian went to the dinner alone.

A bunch of drunk coworkers swarming him the second he walked in.

“Three years, man, and we’ve never met this mysterious girlfriend of yours. Not cool, Jules!”

“Why’re you hiding her? How long you gonna keep her a secret like some treasure?”

They kept pushing. Finally he gave in, unlocked his phone.

He had to choose—right then and there—between Elizabeth and me.

After hesitating for a minute, he tapped on the first name and sent her a message.

Not long after, Elizabeth showed up.

The second she walked in, the whole room lit up. Everyone buzzing, complimenting his “taste,” laughing, toasting.

After several rounds of drinks, Lewis excused himself to use the restroom. He handed an envelope to Julian and asked him to take it downstairs to a woman.

After several rounds of drinks, Lewis excused himself to use the restroom. He handed an envelope to Julian and asked him to take it downstairs to a woman.

He waited and waited, but didn't see anyone. Upon dialing the number, he realized he already had it saved.

Julian froze when he saw my name.

He pulled the agreement out of the envelope and was about to look through it carefully when a pair of glaring headlights shone at him.

While shielding his eyes, he looked up and saw me.

Doubt flashed across his face instantly. He held up the papers.

“A property division agreement for divorce?” His voice was low, sharp. “Amelia, what the hell is this?”

I hadn’t expected him to see it—not like this—but I lied calmly.

“Stella’s getting divorced,” I said evenly. “I helped her get in touch with Mr. Fitzroy.”

His frown deepened. He started to open the agreement to read it himself.

Before he could, a hand slid around his arm from behind.

“Jules, didn’t you say you were meeting a client? What’s taking so long?”

Elizabeth pressed in close—too close.

Julian panicked. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. Didn’t know how to explain. Worse—he didn’t push her away.

I was calmer than I expected.

I stepped forward, took the agreement out of his hand, and gave a small, polite bow.

“Thank you, Mr. Cohen,” I said, voice steady and clipped. “Since my friend’s busy dealing with her divorce, I need to get going.”

Then I turned and walked away.

The night air rushed in through the open car window, whipping my hair around my face.

The whole drive home, I kept replaying the moment Elizabeth appeared next to Julian—her hand on his arm, the way he didn’t push her away.

I got hurt so many times that my heart didn’t even break anymore. I was just… tired. Exhausted.

Who would’ve thought thirty days could drag on this long?

I rubbed my stinging eyes. In that split second of distraction, I didn’t see the car in front of me reversing illegally until I slammed right into it.

My leg was trapped by the dented car door, and blood was everywhere.

My face turned pale and cold sweat broke out on my forehead. The pain was sharp, but my head stayed clear enough to grab my phone and call 911.

In the ER, the doctors checked me out. Not life-threatening, but I needed minor surgery on my leg. They asked me to contact my family.

My parents live in another state, so I tried to call Julian.

But over dozen calls later, he still didn't answer.

I pictured him surrounded by his colleagues, laughing, drinking, with the woman he’d loved forever right beside him.

Why would he have time to answer my call?

A nurse noticed I wasn’t getting through to anyone.

“Can’t your husband come?” she asked gently.

I shook my head, calmer than I felt.

“We’re getting divorced.”

Her eyes widened. She clearly hadn’t expected that.

“But you’re still married right now. Can’t he at least come sign the paperwork?”

I thought about our three years together and felt this heavy wave wash over me.

I couldn't even remember how many nights I waited to have dinner with him, only to get yet another message saying he was working overtime and wouldn't be home.

Hoping to have something in common with him, I studied law just so they could talk, yet he shattered my confidence by saying I wasn't an expert.

With my whole heartI, planned birthday surprises; only for him to say he was too tired to appreciate them.

From day one to now, I’d been the only one desperately holding the marriage together.

Every memory screamed the same thing: he never loved me.

I looked at the nurse and said quietly, “If a husband can’t even be reached when his wife’s in a car accident, what’s the point of him showing up?”

She sighed, full of sympathy.

“Why don’t you call a friend instead?”

In the days that followed, Stella took care of me.

Almost a week later, Julian finally heard about the crash and rushed to the hospital.

When he walked in and saw the bandage on my ankle, confusion crossed his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in an accident?”

I opened my mouth to explain, then remembered all those unanswered calls. I swallowed the words and gave him a faint smile.

“You were busy. I didn’t want to bother you over something small.”

Guilt flickered in his eyes. He started explaining right away.

“The other day, Lizzie and I just ran into each other, Lia. It’s not what you think.”

“Has her divorce been finalized?”

It was the first time I’d asked him something like that directly. He looked surprised but answered honestly.

“Yeah. It’s all finalized. She’s divorced now.”

The smile on my face grew even brighter. I lowered my voice and said,

“Congratulations to you.”

Julian didn't understand and asked what I meant.

I smiled without saying a word.

Congratulations, Julian. You’re about to be divorced too.

Julian opened his mouth to ask what I meant, but his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, hesitated, then stepped into the hallway to take it.

Half an hour later he came back. The door was cracked open, and he heard me talking to Stella.

“Yeah, I’m waiting out the rest of the divorce waiting period. Fifteen days left and I’m finally free.”

The property agreement flashed through his mind. His heart skipped a beat as he burst into the room.

“A waiting period? Who’s getting divorced?”

I hadn’t expected him to return.

Thank God Stella walked in right then. I pointed at her, trying to stay calm.

“Stella. She’s the one getting divorced.”

Stella glanced at both of us and quickly nodded.

“Yeah, that’s right. I'm getting divorce, and the process started not long ago.”

Julian never took the time to get to know me, so he barely knew my friends too. He’d only met Stella twice and never really talked to her. He frowned when he heard that.

“Why didn’t you come to me instead?”

Stella wasn’t a good liar and started stammering.

I cut it right away.

“You were busy with Elizabeth’s case. I didn’t want to pile more on you.”

The second I mentioned Elizabeth, he got uncomfortable and stopped questioning me.

“If anything comes up in the future, come to me.”

Although I managed to cover it, I still felt restless.

He was a lawyer—he was really perceptive. There was no way he wouldn’t tell something was wrong.

But the second Elizabeth was involved, he lost his mind completel, throwing everything else aside.

People always said love made people blind, and I finally understood what that meant.

I watched him typing fast on his phone, looking all anxious, and silently counted how much longer he’d stay.

By the time I counted to ten, Julian stood up and found an excuse to leave.

“Lia, something came up at the firm. I’ve gotta go. When are you discharged? I’ll come pick you up.”

I knew it was a lie, but I didn’t care anymore.

“Five days later.”

The day I got out of the hospital, I waited from morning till night. He never showed up.

When I opened Instagram, Elizabeth had posted pictures from the beach.

I called him.

Before I could say anything, the sound of crashing waves gave away his whereabouts.

He still tried to play it cool.

“Lia, I’m on a business trip in Miami. What’s up?”

Of course he’d forgotten to pick me up.

No matter what, Elizabeth always came first. I was always second place—never the one who mattered.

But I was finally done waiting like an idiot.

Instead of calling him out, I just asked softly, “Where are you? How long will you be there?”

“Been here two days. Probably back tomorrow.”

I hummed, told him to take care, and hung up.

I booked a car, stood by the curb, opened my calendar, and counted the days left.

Ten more. Then I would finally be free.

The world would be mine again. I’d live on my own terms.

I couldn't care less if no one was here to pick me up from the hospital.

Why did that matter, anyway?

When I got home, I wanted to speed up the moving process.

But since my leg wasn’t fully healed, it was hard to get around. As such, I hired movers instead.

Big and small boxes were stacked all over the living room. The movers were packing and carrying things out, and the front door was wide open.

When Julian came home and saw this, he quickly asked what was going on.

I rehearsed this, so answered smoothly, “The house in Old Westbury is ready. It’s closer to your office—more convenient. I figured we should move there.”

He remembered the property agreement we signed before and nodded.

After changing his shoes, he walked toward the sofa and sat down, casually chatting as he recalled the layout of the house.

“You like gardening. How about leaving the east balcony empty for your plants?”

I stayed quiet for a second.

“It’s fine. I already gave up on that hobby.”

Julian glanced at the fresh lilies on the table, probably thinking I wasn't actually telling the truth.

He was about to persuade me when he suddenly noticed that the boxes seemed to contain only his things, so he instinctively changed the topic.

“Why are they only moving my stuff? What about your stuff?”

“I've already taken them.”

He took it to mean my things were already at the new house. He didn’t ask more.

He stood up to pour some water, and told the movers what to do.

“Label everything clearly, don't put things in the wrong rooms after delivering them.”

I watched him quietly, swallowing back the words I wanted to say.

He didn’t need to worry about them making mistakes—everything in those boxes was his.

Once it was all sorted, he helped me downstairs.

As soon as we stepped out of the elevator, we ran stright into Elizabeth and her brother Ethan Osborne.

All four of us froze.

Julian panicked. He dropped my hand, stepped forward, and stood slightly in front of me.

“Why are you guys here?”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lizzie wanted to see your new place. I hadn’t been here either, so I asked your parents for the address. Surprise.”

Elizabeth’s eyes locked on me.

She had seen me twice before. Once at the law firm, and once outside the bar.

Her strong intuition made her curious about my identity, so she smiled and tested the waters.

“Jules, who’s this lady?”

It was rare for Julian to fall silent, as if still thinking about how to introduce me. I stayed calm, and even extended my hand politely.

“Amelia Leighton. Mr. Cohen and I were college classmates. I’m in the middle of a divorce, so I came to ask for advice. Didn’t expect him to be moving today. Bad timing.”

My words brought Julian back to reality. He glanced at me guiltily, then followed along with my explanation and introduced everyone.

Everything seemed normal, but Elizabeth still looked suspicious.

With people around, she couldn’t ask further so she told Ethan to help with boxes instead.

Then she came over to me and started chatting.

“Lia, why are you getting divorced?”

I didn't expect her to be this straightforward. I froze for a few seconds, then smiled.

“My husband’s in love with someone else.”

Hearing I’d gone through something similar, Elizabeth immediately felt sympathy and couldn't help but comfort me.

“I went through the same thing. But it’s okay—once you get divorced, everything will be better. Jules will definitely help you.”

Indeed, he had helped with the most difficult part—signing the papers.

I nodded.

“I heard he handled your case too. Must’ve been really dedicated.”

A shy look crossed her face. Her voice got soft.

“Yeah. Jules helped so much. He gathered evidence against my ex, stayed by my side to keep me safe. If he hadn’t stepped in, I might’ve ended up dead from that crazy man’s knife.”

Watching her sweetly recall those painful memories, I froze for a moment and blurted out a question that didn't quite suit the moment.

“Do you like Julian?”

Hearing that question, Elizabeth froze completely. After thinking about it, she finally answered hesitantly,

“I don’t know. At first I only saw him as an older brother. Since I was little he’d take me out, spoil me with gifts, protect me from bullies—even got hurt sometimes standing up for me. When he heard about my divorce, he came running to help. Later Ethan told me Jules had liked me all along…

“He’s so aloof, yet he kept it secret. I don’t even know how he fell for me.”

Hearing that, I felt everything was wrong.

Through her stories, I saw a completely different Julian.

It turned out he wasn't naturally indifferent, he just didn't like me. Rather than being nonchalant, I simply wasn't the person who could stir his passion.

Unfortunately, I had fallen too deeply, too long, and realized it too late, wasting so many years on him.

Elizabeth didn’t notice the meaningful look on my face. After our talk, she believed I was someone she could trust. She gathered her courage and slowly voiced the question that had troubled her for a long time to me, the one she had barely met a few times.

“Lia, what do you think of Jules?”

I knew what she really meant.

I looked up at the house that was almost empty and answered honestly.

“I’ve known him for ten years, but I only recently realized I never really understood him. I can’t tell you what kind of person he is. But I will say this: I’ve never seen him like someone the way he likes you.”

She nodded thoughtfully, feeling much more at ease.

The sun was setting. She grabbed my hand.

“Lia, come have dinner with us.”

Julian, who happened to be coming downstairs, froze when he heard that. He looked visibly reluctant.

I smiled a little and shook my head.

“I’ve got plans. I can’t join.”

Before they could argue, Julian helped me to the car.

“You guys go ahead. I’ll drop her off and come back.”

The moving truck followed us out.

In the car, his heart was clearly racing. Every red light, he seemed to be searching for words.

I spoke first.

“No need to be nervous. We agreed before we got married to keep it a secret from everyone except our parents—only go public when we both felt ready. You’re not ready yet. I get it.”

His shoulders relaxed under my calm tone.

He took a deep breath, voice full of gratitude.

“Thank you for understanding. Honestly, I’ve been warming up to the idea ofbeing married. Just give me a little more time and we’ll definitely go public.”

I gave a faint response and turned to look out the window.

Three years married, and he still needed “a little more time.”

But I couldn’t wait anymore.

I stayed quiet for the rest of the drive.

Julian could tell something’s been off lately, but he didn’t know what. He thought back on what’s been happening and realized he’d been neglecting me because of Elizabeth’s case.

Guilt hit him. For once, he made the first move.

“Our third anniversary is coming up. Let’s go on a trip.”

With only a few days left before the divorce waiting period ended, I did not want any complications. I rejected him, using my injury as a reason.

He thought it over and realized a trip wasn’t realistic. So he listed other ideas—dinner, a show, whatever I wanted.

As he listed them one by one, I always found an excuse, rejecting all his ideas.

My cold responses were nothing like how excited I used to be about our dates. He got suspicious.

Seeing his confusion, I worried he would figure it out.

I suggested, “Our anniversary ws on a weekend. Why don't we head back to our alma mater”

Julian could not figure out what was on my mind, but since he didn't want to spoil my mood, he agreed.

We went quiet again.

I opened my calendar app. Two dates side by side.

September 7: “Divorce.”

September 6: our third anniversary—and the tenth anniversary of me falling for him.

Going back to where it all started on that day felt right. A clean ending.

A little smile popped up on my face. I started joking around.

“This time you won’t ditch me again, right?”

He actually laughed. “When have I ever ditched you? Lia, stop making me sound bad.”

I smiled but didn’t answer.

The last time he left me in the hospital to go to the beach with Elizabeth.

Before that, he skipped my birthday dinner to collect evidence for her divorce.

Even earlier, he ditched me in the suburbs to comfort her.

Whenever it was about Elizabeth, our plans got canceled.

The next week he didn’t come home once.

Every morning I crossed off another day on the calendar.

I stayed alone in the house that was getting emptier, slowly packing the last of my things.

Time flew. Soon it was September 6.

I woke up early, did my makeup, put on an old dress from college, grabbed my camera, and went downstairs.

Julian was already waiting. He opened the car door for me politely.

Knowing I’d be free soon, I felt light. I talked nonstop about old school memories.

We laughed the whole way.

He relaxed too and even offered to take tons of photos for me later.

Before we knew it, we pulled up to the gates of Washington University in St. Louis.

I got out first and leaned against the car, waiting.

Julian unbuckled his seatbelt—then his phone chimed.

He opened it. I saw his face change.

Elizabeth: “Jules, are you free? I have a fever. Can you take me to the hospital?”

He froze.

Seeing that he still had not gotten out of the car, I turned to see what was going on and happened to see his hesitant expression.

He decided fast.

“Lia, something came up at the firm. I need to head back.”

I paused, “Can’t you go an hour later?”

"It's very important. I don't think it can wait."

Seeing how determined he was, I did not expose his bluff. I only looked at him deeply and let him leave.

He buckled up again and promised, “Once it’s handled, we can come back. Maybe we can invite some of our old professors to lunch.”

I didn’t respond, for there wouldn’t be a next time.

I watched his car drive away, then walked onto campus alone with my camera. In half an hour, I visited every spot that meant something to my youth and my one-sided love.

After taking her photos, Amelia hailed a taxi and left.

I saw new updates on my Instagram and tapped on them.

When the page refreshed, I saw that Elizabeth had uploaded a photo of herself at the hospital.

I was certain that Julian hadn't been at the company. Instead, he'd been taking care of Elizabeth.

Thinking of his confident promise, I let out a small, bitter laugh.

He couldn’t even give me half an hour.

“Julian, if you knew these were the last hours I’d ever spend with you, would you regret standing me up again?”

No one was around to answer me, and I was no longer cared.

I skimmed her post, then messaged Lewis on WhatsApp.

“Mr. Fitzroy, today’s the last day of the waiting period. Do I need to come in to finalize anything?”

He replied fast: “No need, Ms. Leighton. Since today is the last day of the waiting period, the whole process is now complete..

“You’re officially divorced. Congratulations on your freedom.”

It felt like someone handed me my life back.

From today on, I didn’t need Julian’s love. I could finally live for myself.

Thinking of this, I felt enlightened and turned to go home.

With three hours left, I got rid of the last of my things, then lay on the sofa watching the sunset.

At the two-hour left, I took out my laptop and edited the photos I had taken today into a video.

WIth one hour left, I finished the montage. After watching it once, I turned the camera toward myself and pressed record.

I wanted to record a farewell letter I had written to Julian.

When it was done, I put the memory card back in the camera, placed the divorce papers on the bedroom nightstand, and wrote a short note:

“Dear Julian, as of this moment, we’re officially divorced. Congratulations to both of us.”

After doing all this, I picked up my last suitcase and left the house, leaving the city altogether.

No one knew where I was going.

Meanwhile, Julian didn't leave Elizabeth's house until she had almost fully recovered.

He drove while calling me, wanting to keep his previous promise.

But no one answered. He kept getting directed to voicemail, and his texts were left unanswered.

In three years of marriage, it was the first time he couldn’t reach me.

Thinking of my recent car accident, he could not help but worry and turned back home.

In the new house, all the items were placed neatly in their original positions, no longer piled up messily.

But something was wrong.

There was nothing of mine here. Not a single trace.

Realizing this, his heart skipped a beat, and he hurried back to the old house.

Much to his dismay, the whole house was empty. Completely empty.

He looked everywhere, but no one was there.

Only when he entered the bedroom did he see a camera and a stack of documents on the nightstand.

Remembering how happy she had been holding the camera a few days ago, Julian felt momentarily relieved and pressed play to see what she had recorded.

He pressed play.

Cheerful music started. Clips of Washington University flashed by—plaza, library, basketball court—with captions.

“Julian, the plaza still has kids skateboarding. Remember where I first confessed? You turned me down so gently. I cried all day.

“Julian, the library’s still packed. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so I shot from far away. Your favorite spot, right?

“Julian, this is the court where you played. I watched you secretly for four years.”

Scene after scene, he felt like he was back in college—carefree, six years ago.

He remembered how hard I’d chased him back then. A small smile tugged at his lips.

The music faded. One minute left.

He thought maybe it was a surprise—maybe I’d appear.

He kept watching.

After a few black frames, my face appeared in the center of the screen.

My eyes were red and tired. Julian suddenly felt a sense of unease

“Julian, this is our tenth year knowing each other—and my tenth year of secretly loving you. Hard to believe, right? A whole decade. I’m surprised too. How many decades do we even get?

“In ten years I spent seven crushing on you, three as your wife. I tried so hard to be the person you loved. I gave everything. But life doesn’t always work that way. You never liked me. Even another three, seven, ten years—it wouldn’t change a thing.

“So on this day that means so much to me, I decided to let go of this obsession—and to accept how much you love Lizzie. When you watch this, I have something to tell you.

“Julian, we’re officially divorced.

“A month ago we both signed the papers. The marriage is over. I’m leaving. Don’t look for me. I wish you and Elizabeth happiness. And I wish myself a free life too.”