Chapter 4
I spent three days at the hotel.
Andrew texted me every day, making sure I wasn't skipping meals.
He had his assistant drop off some clean clothes and something for my stomach.
He remembered all my little quirks.
But he never showed up to take me home.
On the fourth day, Lucy's lawyer showed up with a statement.
Her ex had found out Andrew was married and was accusing them of faking a stable family environment.
The lawyer said I needed to sign the statement that Andrew and I had been living apart for ages, and our marriage was basically over.
As long as Lucy could prove Andrew's marriage was for show, she could say their closeness wasn't anything shady.
Andrew slid the document across the table to me.
"It's all for appearances.
"Once the custody ruling comes through, this won't matter anymore," he explained.
I flipped to the last page.
It said: [The parties have no shared life together, and the marriage cannot be sustained.]
Every word was spot on.
I asked him, "If I sign this, what does that make me?"
"Legally, you're still my wife," he replied.
"So at work, we can't acknowledge each other. At home, I can't be seen. And on paper, I have to admit our marriage is broken," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
"What good is a wife like that?" I added.
Andrew held my hand.
His hand was warm to the touch.
It felt like the day we registered our marriage, four years ago.
"Helen, please, give me six more months.
"Once Lucy gets custody of her daughter, I'll let everyone know about us.
"The passenger seat will be yours again, and the project, too," he promised.
I looked at him. "You act like everything belongs to you, and you can hand it off to whoever you feel like."
He frowned. "Don't get hung up on it."
Lucy's quiet sobs broke out.
"Forget it. I'll give up on Sophie.
"I can't wreck your marriage because of me," she said.
Andrew whipped around to face her. "Nobody's telling you to give up on Sophie."
His words came out sharp, almost biting.
Right then, I knew who he'd put first.
I grabbed the pen and scribbled my name at the bottom, sealing the deal.
Andrew let out a sigh of relief. "I'll drive you back to the hotel tonight."
"No, thanks," I said.
I closed the file. "I'll go by myself."
That afternoon, the transfer was official.
I handed over the original project files to the auditors and sent the list of marital assets to my lawyer.
At 8 p.m., Andrew showed up with Lucy for the custody hearing.
I went back to the house where our wedding photo was gone.
All the boxes were stacked up, neat and tidy.
We had been married for four years, yet it only took five boxes to pack all my belongings.
Right before leaving, I opened Andrew's car one last time.
The label with my name was still stuck inside the glove box.
I set my wedding ring on top of it and then tucked in the actual divorce agreement.
As the train pulled away, the city lights faded into the distance.
My phone buzzed again and again.
Andrew texted me: [The hearing's over.
[Which hotel are you at? I'll come get you.]
I didn't reply.
In the parking lot, Andrew opened the glove box.
The wedding ring tumbled off the divorce agreement.
At the same time, his phone buzzed with two notifications.
One text was my official transfer notice.
The other was from my lawyer.
It read, [Mr. Parker, Ms. Quinn has officially filed for divorce.]