Chapter 3
The next morning, I got a call.
My dad said, "Tilda, the company's back on its feet. The bank finally agreed, and the new investment is in.
"If it weren't for the Wilkinson family's support these past two years, we wouldn't have made it. You really pulled us through."
I stood by the window, watching the sunlight outside.
"That's good," I said.
After I hung up, I suddenly felt kind of aimless.
For the past two years, all I'd thought about was helping my family survive the crisis.
Now that it was finally over, I wondered what I was supposed to do with myself.
The answer came pretty fast.
One afternoon, I was scrolling through Instagram when a post caught my eye.
It was from one of Jordan's friends, showing a photo taken at the airport.
In the picture, Jordan was standing at the exit, a woman beside him.
She had long hair, a white dress, and a soft, gentle smile.
The caption read: [Welcome home. We've been waiting for you forever.]
I stared at that photo for a long time.
I recognized her.
Word was, she was Jordan's first love. He nearly went to war with his family over her in the past.
Her name was Veronica Barnett.
She'd been overseas for three years, and now she was finally home.
That night, Jordan didn't come home.
He didn't come home for the next few days either.
A month later, he finally came back on a morning.
I was hanging out in the living room.
Jordan walked in, saw me, and paused for a moment.
He said, "Why are you here?"
I answered, "I've always been here."
Jordan fell silent for a few seconds.
"Veronica's back," he said.
I said, "I know."
He looked at me, as if he was waiting for me to say something.
I stayed quiet.
"Jordan, can we talk?" I said.
His face changed.
"What do you want to talk about?" he asked.
I took out the divorce papers I'd had ready and put them on the table.
"Go ahead and sign," I said.
He stared at the divorce papers, caught off guard.
"What are you trying to say?" he asked.
"My dad's company is safe now. The purpose of our marriage has been fulfilled. You don't have to be stuck with me anymore," I said.
"Is that really what you think?" he asked.
I gave him a small smile.
I said, "Jordan, you told me not to hope for anything between us. I always remembered that.
"So, I guess it's time to move on."
He stood there, unable to say a word.
I stood up and walked right past him.
"I've already signed the divorce papers. Let me know when you've finished," I said.
I walked upstairs.
I never looked back.
The paper was processed quickly.
He signed the papers.
The day I went to the City Hall, he showed up.
He stood at the entrance, about ten feet away, watching me.
I ignored him.
After I finishing the paperwork and stepping outside, he was still there.
"Tilda," he called out.
I stopped, but didn't turn around.
"Congratulations. You're about to be free," he said.
I laughed.
"Congrats to you, too. You're about to be free as well," I said.
I walked off.
As I stepped out of the City Hall, I suddenly felt like crying.
It wasn't because I couldn't let him go.
It was because I had never really lived for myself.
I married Jordan to save my dad's company.
I tried to be the ideal Mrs. Wilkinson, but it was like I was invisible for two years.
I hid myself away so I wouldn't bother Jordan and took care of everything on my own.
Now, it was finally over.
I should be happy.
But I felt so empty inside.
That night, I started packing up, getting ready to leave the Wilkinson family.
When I opened my closet, I saw a dress hanging there.
It was the first birthday present Jordan gave me.
Actually, he didn't buy it.
His assistant picked it out.
But on the card, he wrote: [Happy Birthday.]
I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.
I folded the dress and packed it into my suitcase.
I took the cookbook I used when I was learning how to make pulled pork for him.
I took the thermos I used to bring him oatmeal in the middle of the night.
I also took random little things I'd gathered over the past two years.
Every single one of them reminded me of him.
Suddenly, I realized something. I thought I was completing a transaction.
But without even noticing, I'd ended up getting myself caught up in it.
I sat in the empty room and laughed.
I laughed until tears rolled down my face.
"Tilda, you really did it," I muttered to myself.
On the first day after we signed the papers, I moved out of the Wilkinson family.