Beside him sat his new fiancée—a woman half my age, draped in designer silk, eyes glinting like polished steel. She leaned in close, whispered something, and together they laughed softly. That laughter would echo in my ears for days.
“Couldn’t even dress up for your big goodbye, Emma?” she asked sweetly, her words dripping with poison.
The lawyer slid the last stack of papers across the table. My hands trembled as I signed my name—one last signature to end twelve years of marriage. Twelve years of trying to hold together a love that had already crumbled long ago.
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