Chapter 5

The courthouse wasn't crowded, and we were third in line.

The two couples ahead of us were here to tie the knot. The brides had on white dresses and simple, lovely veils, while the grooms were so nervous their hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Matthew was the total opposite. Back then, he couldn't stop grinning like an idiot.

When it was our turn, the clerk looked up and asked, "Are you two here to get divorced of your own free will?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

Matthew was a beat behind. "Yes..."

"Did you bring all the paperwork?" the clerk asked.

I opened my bag and passed the documents to her, one after another.

Matthew watched me, his expression hard to decipher.

"Alright, here's your receipt," the clerk said, handing us two sheets of paper. "There's a thirty-day cooling-off period. Either of you can withdraw the application during this time. After thirty days, you both need to come back together to finalize the divorce."

Those two flimsy pieces of paper felt like they weighed a ton.

Matthew took them and slipped them straight into his briefcase.

"I'll show these to Lily," he said. "She almost tried to cut her wrists again last night. Maybe seeing this will help her feel a little better, and keep her from doing something stupid again."

I didn't say a word and headed straight for the parking lot.

In the car, Matthew kept wanting to say something, but held back every time.

At a red light, he finally broke the silence. "Charlotte," he asked cautiously, "why are you so quiet? Are you angry? If you've changed your mind, we can turn around and withdraw the application right now. I—"

"No," I cut him off, my voice steady. "I just didn't sleep well last night.

"Nothing is more important than Lily's happiness right now. Once she's doing better, we can always remarry. I really lost my temper yesterday. I shouldn't have hit her. You should go home and make sure she's taken care of."

It was true. I really hadn't slept well.

I barely slept a wink last night, running through every step of the future in my head. I kept rubbing my belly, telling him he'd still have a happy life, even without a dad.

Whether Lily was happy or not meant nothing to me. My only worry was Matthew finding out the truth, and that would complicate the divorce.

So I played along, offering a few vague words to put his mind at ease.

Honestly, this was for the best.

Matthew visibly relaxed, his tense shoulders finally dropping.

"That's good, really," he murmured, then suddenly remembered, "I'll pick you up tonight. Let's have dinner at Skyview Restaurant. I booked a window seat so we can see the whole city lit up.

"I know today was tough on you. Let's just relax tonight. Just the two of us."

I knew exactly what this candlelit dinner was about. It was his attempt to make amends, to soothe me for playing along with his whole "temporary divorce" charade.

Just like every time we clashed over the past six years: whenever Lily did something wrong, he'd rush to comfort her; whenever I felt wronged, he'd try to make it up to me.

Only this time, what his "apology" cost me was my actual marriage, a legal document that made our split final.

"Okay," I said.

Matthew's face brightened. He looked touched, relieved, and carried that familiar air of confidence, as if everything was neatly settled again.

He reached out to touch my face, but I smoothly turned my head away, pretending to focus on the road ahead.

"The light's green," I said softly.

"Oh, right," he said, pulling his hand back and starting the car again.

When we pulled up in front of the Bennett Holdings' office, Matthew told me, "I'll pick you up after work. Don't bother driving yourself. You must be exhausted."

"Okay," I said, unbuckling my seatbelt and reaching for the door.

"Charlotte," he suddenly called out to me.

I turned back.

He hesitated, lips moving like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just said softly, "See you tonight."

"See you tonight," I said, closing the car door and heading into the building without looking back.