NOT COMING BACK
838 Words
“Ellie?”
Damian’s voice cracked as he called her name again. Silence answered him. The house felt too big, too quiet.
He ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were wild, unfocused. “I don’t know where she is, Grandma.”
Gordon’s face went dark. He stepped closer, shoulders rigid. “What do you mean you don’t know where your wife is? You’re her husband, Damian!”
Damian swallowed hard. His throat felt dry. “I came home from the party. She wasn’t here. I thought she went to a friend’s and would be back late. When I woke up this morning... the bed was cold. She wasn’t back.”
Madeline stepped forward. Her voice was tight with worry. “Did you call her?”
“I tried several times.” Damian grabbed his phone off the table and dialed again. The call didn’t even ring. “Her phone is out of service.”
Madeline didn’t wait. She pulled out her own phone and dialed Elaina’s number. The room held its breath. The cold automated voice came through:
“The number you have dialed is out of service.”
Madeline lowered the phone slowly. Her eyes locked onto Damian, sharp and accusing.
“Did you do something to her, Damian?”
His head snapped up. “No! God, no.”
“Then where is she?” Gordon demanded. His voice cut like a blade.
Damian shook his head. Panic rose in his chest, fast and suffocating. “I don’t know. When I got back from the party, she wasn’t home. I tried calling, texting… nothing. I thought maybe she needed space after what happened at the party, so I didn’t push it. I didn’t think.....”
“You didn’t think,” Gordon cut him off, bitter. “You never think, do you?”
The tension snapped when the doorbell rang.
All three heads turned.
Alice moved quickly to the door. A moment later she returned, holding a sealed envelope.
“Delivery for Mr. Damian Black,” she said quietly.
Damian stared at it like it might bite him. He took it with numb fingers. His heart pounded against his ribs.
His hands trembled as he tore it open.
One glance at the first page, and the blood drained from his face.
Bold, black letters stared back at him:
PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE
Divorce Papers.
The paper slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. He didn’t even try to catch it.
“No,” he whispered. “No, Ellie…”
Gordon’s jaw clenched. “So that’s it, then. She’s done with you. Who wouldn’t be, with a husband like you?”
Madeline knelt and picked up the papers. Her eyes scanned the contents. Her face fell.
“Damian,” she said quietly, “she signed them. Yesterday.”
Damian sank to his knees right there in the living room. His hands gripped his hair like he could tear the pain out.
“Ellie,” he choked out. “Come back. Please, just come back and talk to me.”
But the empty room gave him no answer.
Only the divorce papers lying on the floor. Proof that the woman he’d taken for granted was gone for good.
Madeline’s hands trembled as she set the divorce papers down on the table.
Her eyes went wet with regret.
“This is my fault,” she whispered. “If I hadn’t pushed you to marry her, she wouldn’t have had to go through any of this.”
She looked at Damian, and the disappointment in her gaze cut him deeper than Gordon’s anger.
“I thought you’d see what I saw in her,” she continued. Her voice broke. “I thought you’d look at Ellie and realize she was the best thing that ever happened to you. But I was wrong.”
Damian opened his mouth, but she held up a hand to stop him.
“Now I get it,” Madeline said softly. “Why she looked different at my birthday yesterday. The way she dressed. Why she smiled even when your ex-girlfriend insulted her, acted like everything was fine.”
Her throat tightened.
“She kept all the hurt inside her. She kept smiling so we wouldn’t worry. So you wouldn’t see how much you two were breaking her.”
Damian flinched like he’d been struck.
“Grandma?”
“Did you do something before the birthday incident?” Madeline’s voice dropped, low and sharp with fear.
Before he could answer, her eyes caught on something inside the envelope. A folded piece of paper, tucked behind the legal documents.
“What’s this?” she said, pulling it out.
Damian reached for it without thinking. His fingers unfolded the paper carefully, like if he moved too fast it would tear apart in his hands.
It was a letter.
Elaina’s handwriting. Neat, controlled, but the ink smudged in two places like she’d paused too long.
The room went silent.
Damian’s eyes dropped to the first line.
- Writer
