The ballroom gleamed like something out of a magazine. Chandeliers threw light across linen and glass, and Vivian floated through the room greeting guests as if she were royalty.
Lauren watched me like a hawk. Ryan scrolled his phone between forced smiles. I answered polite questions about military life, my voice even, my heart steady.
“A special gift,” she said, smiling like a woman who already knew the ending. “From all of us.”
Ryan adjusted his phone to capture my face.
I opened the envelope.
Divorce papers.
The silence that followed was the sound of triumph—for them. They wanted tears, pleading, maybe even a scene.
Instead, I picked up the pen and signed. Calm. Complete. Final.
Then, before anyone could react, I reached into my purse and pulled out my own envelope—plain white, no ribbon, no theatrics.
“I have something to share, too,” I said.
