Chapter 5

After getting myself together, I called the movers.

I walked upstairs and packed away every keepsake and memory I once thought was precious, one by one.

By the time the movers showed up, I was almost done. I had them take everything to the new address. Then I went back to the apartment.

When the last box was gone, I let go of everything connected to Justin and Dylan. It didn't matter anymore.

I called the security over to help me pile up all the photos I'd collected in the yard.

Once they were stacked, I lit my lighter and tossed it onto the pile without hesitation.

The flames ate through every memory I'd saved over the years. Every moment I thought meant something.

I found the last one—our wedding photo—just as Justin walked in with Dylan.

Under Justin's gaze, I tossed it into the flames.

He froze for a second, then his brows knitted together as he hurried over to me.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snapped, his voice sharp with anger.

I looked into his eyes. They used to be gentle. Now they were just annoyed.

I took a deep breath and spoke, each word slow and deliberate, as if finally letting go, "Let's get divorced, Justin."

Everything froze for a second. Then something clicked. Justin's eyes snapped to me.

"Did you... look at my phone?" he asked, tense.

I didn't answer. I just turned and walked away.

But this time, he grabbed my arm, his expression desperate.

"Did you look at my phone?" he demanded, desperate for an answer.

"Justin, what are you so afraid of?" I asked, my voice steady and cold.

"Afraid I'll uncover your twisted motives? Or that your perfect little family is about to fall apart?" I said, each word slow and sharp, cutting right through him.

I held his gaze. My voice didn't waver.

His grip on my wrist loosened, and I pulled free, then walked over to Dylan, reaching out my hand to him.

"Come with me, sweetheart," I said to Dylan, my voice gentle but unwavering.

No matter how ugly things got between me and Justin, Dylan was innocent in all this.

"No!" Dylan shouted, his voice full of stubborn resolve.

"I don't want to go with you," he yelled.

He was so little, yet so unwavering. I just stood there, frozen, feeling like my heart was being torn to shreds.

Justin reached out and grabbed my hand again.

"Can we just talk?" he said, his voice low and urgent.

Before I could get another word out, someone rushed into the room.

Dylan, who'd been furious just seconds ago, ran straight into her arms, bawling his eyes out, barely able to catch his breath between sobs.

Justin froze when he saw Bridget walk in.

"Justin, I came to explain. I didn't want Andrea to misunderstand," she said, her voice soft and sweet.

"Aunt Bridget, she's picking on Dad!" Dylan sobbed, his voice choked with tears.

My heart shattered.

The child I carried for nine months, the one I gave birth to, ended up standing with Bridget, pointing fingers at me right along with her.

I frowned and took a step forward.

Justin suddenly let go of my hand, turned, and shielded Justin and Bridget behind him.

Justin's gaze deepened as he looked at me. "Andrea, this has nothing to do with her," he said.

He was clearly defending her, with that stern look on his face. I couldn't help but laugh.

So in his eyes, I was still just someone who took it out on others and made a scene for no reason.

I looked down. The irony hit me, bitter and cold.

They say it takes a lifetime of luck to find someone to share your bed with. Me and Justin? We must have used up all the bad luck in the universe.

"Once the divorce agreement is ready, I'll have it delivered to you," I said.

With those words, I turned and left.