Chapter 5

The words "Divorce Petition" flashed right in front of Nydia.

"Divorce? Emerson, what is this? Are you suing me?" she asked, her voice sharp.

I hadn't expected her to see it, especially not like this. And I definitely didn't expect the judge I'd been working with to be her coworker's boyfriend.

Maybe Jefferson's own divorce had her feeling nervous, making her more suspicious, more eager to dig into the truth.

There was a lot of small print on the document, and in the dim light, she couldn't read most of it.

I lied without thinking. "It's not about us. My boss's wife cheated, and he asked me to help file some paperwork."

Nydia frowned. She clearly didn't believe me.

Just then, Jefferson stepped closer and gently wrapped his arm around her waist. "Nydia, it's freezing. You've already handed over the papers. Let's go."

He didn't know who I was. He just gave me a weird look and then turned back to Nydia.

I pressed my lips together and slowly took the papers from Nydia's hands.

I could tell she was flustered by how close Jefferson was—she couldn't even look at me. But even then, she didn't step away from Jefferson.

"Nydia, you know this guy? Why is he suing you?" Jefferson asked.

Nydia gave him a reassuring look and shook her head.

Watching them, I didn't feel anything. I had gotten used to everything. None of the feelings I thought I'd have were there anymore.

After all I'd been through, nothing she did could surprise me anymore.

I took a step back and said calmly, "I've gotta get these back to my boss. Thanks for delivering them."

It had been three days since I filed for divorce at the courthouse. After I got in my car, I snapped a photo of the two of them—her in his arms.

I couldn't even feel pain anymore. Just nothing.

The divorce process dragged on. It felt endless. The evidence I had wasn't strong enough. I needed more.

As I sat in my car reviewing the papers, another car came out of nowhere and slammed into mine.

The impact caught me off guard. I was thrown hard against the door, and the pain was so sharp it took me a while to catch my breath.

My left arm felt dislocated—weak and useless, with a deep, throbbing pain in the bone.

Shaking and pale, I grabbed my phone and called the only person nearby—Nydia. She was a surgeon. She'd know what to do.

Nydia made up an excuse to step away from Jefferson and answered my call, but there was clear annoyance in her voice. "What now?"

"I'm hurt. Can you take me to the hospital?" I asked, my voice weak.

She glanced over at my car and frowned. "Your car looks fine. What happened? Emerson, don't be dramatic."

I let out a bitter laugh. Right then, the pain in my arm felt like nothing compared to the pain in my chest. It was getting hard to even breathe.

The crash had been loud enough to rattle the street, and she hadn't even noticed. With Jefferson by her side, it was like nothing else existed.

At that point, I knew better than to expect anything from her, so I just called the ambulance myself.

At the hospital, the doctor said I'd need minor surgery. But they needed a family member to sign the forms.

My parents were far away. And Nydia was probably out drinking with coworkers. Or maybe with Jefferson.

If I called her again, she'd only be irritated.

The doctor looked at me. "You're married, right? Your wife can sign for you."

I shook my head. "We're getting divorced. She's not coming."

The doctor paused, then gave me a tired look of sympathy and sighed.

Finally, I signed the forms myself.

When I came out of surgery, still groggy from the anesthesia, I saw Nydia helping Jefferson into the hospital. We locked eyes for a brief moment—neither of us meant to.