Chapter 3
Vivian told Edward's parents about our fight.
They showed up during dinner.
I hadn't treated the cut on my neck. Anyone could see it.
Edith Sterling looked at the mark but said nothing.
Paul Sterling sounded concerned. "Why are you eating so little?"
When had my appetite disappeared?
"Because I'm dying," I replied.
Paul paused, clearly thinking I was just trying to get under his skin. His expression soured.
"Charlotte, where are your manners? You never used to be like this. When did you become so difficult?
"No wonder Edward doesn't come home. Who'd want to be around someone like you?"
I kept eating—slow, mechanical. The food had no taste. It just sat in my mouth.
Edith couldn't stand my blank expression. Even she, always so composed, looked irritated now.
She pushed the food aside and slid a check across the table. "We want you to divorce Edward.
"You saw it yourself today—Vivian's pregnant again. A few months along. It's a girl this time."
My body started hurting again.
Strange how every mention of Edward made everything hurt.
"We're getting divorced tomorrow," I said quietly.
Edith snorted. "You and Edward have been at this for three years. Have you ever actually gotten divorced?
"If it ain't broke, don't fix it. But you just couldn't leave well enough alone. Had you just accepted my grandson sooner, would we be here now?"
I looked up and met her gaze.
"So what you're saying is—I should've just sat there and accepted that he had a kid with someone else? Just kept watching him lie to me over and over for that child?"
Edith was visibly shaken by the look in my eyes. The cruel words she'd been ready to throw at me died in her throat.
She muttered, "With us backing you, what could you possibly lose?"
I threw the check back at her and stood up. "You should go.
"Don't worry. After tomorrow, Edward and I will have nothing to do with each other."
On the day of my divorce, I woke up early and made myself look perfect.
After all, this would be the last divorce of my life.
I arrived so early that the courthouse was just unlocking its doors.
Couples were everywhere—some happy, some not.
I sat alone on the front steps.
Head down, counting ants by my feet.
Morning turned to afternoon. Edward never showed.
I checked my phone and saw his text from a minute ago.
[Something came up. Let's reschedule.]
I stared at the message, then scrolled through our chat history.
Every time—same words, same punctuation. Eighteen times total.
I sat back down, chin in hand, staring at nothing.
If we didn't divorce today, Edith would think I was the one refusing to let go.
I didn't want to die with everyone still thinking I was hung up on him.
After a while, I calmly replied: [Is she pregnant again?]
[Edward, for our kids' sake, just let me go.]
No response. I kept waiting anyway.
Bored, I counted the ants again. Only a handful. Done in seconds.
Crazy, wasn't it? Even these ants had more time left than I did.
My smile froze. For the first time, I truly realized—I was dying.
As the courthouse was closing, Edward stepped out of his car. It had been parked there the whole time.
I saw his polished dress shoes first.
I looked up, squinting in the sunlight.
Slowly, I stood and brushed the dust off my clothes.
"Let's go inside."
Edward didn't move. He grabbed my arm, his gaze ice-cold.
"Are you sure you want to divorce me?"
For a moment, I could've sworn I'd heard that question before.
Only back then, the words were different.
"Charlotte, are you sure you want to marry me?"
I pulled my hand free and walked up the steps.
"I'm sure."
Funny how the same answer could lead to such different endings.