Divorced.
1185 Words
Amelia.
I stared at the divorce papers until the words swam together, the ink bleeding through my tears. DIVORCE AGREEMENT.
My hands trembled so violently I nearly dropped the pages.
“No,” I whispered.
Daniel leaned back in his chair with that terrifying calm that only comes when someone has already made up their mind. The dining room felt colder than it ever had.
“It’s over, Amelia.”
A broken sound tore from my throat. This pain was sharper, more desperate than the grief I had been drowning in for days. Noah was gone. If Daniel left too, I would have nothing. No one.
I looked at him across the wide table, tears spilling freely down my face. “Please, Daniel. You can’t do this to me.”
“I already am.”
His voice was flat and final. Sophia shifted uncomfortably beside him, but Daniel didn’t even glance at her. His eyes stayed locked on me, cold and unyielding.
“I know you’re angry,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I know you hate me right now. But please… I beg you in the name of God don’t do this.”
I stepped closer, desperate, the hospital wristband still tight around my wrist. “Daniel, you’re all I have left.”
His expression hardened. “That sounds like a you problem.”
His words were like salt to my already wounded heart. My lips trembled. “I’m an orphan,” I said, the admission cracking something deep inside me. “I already lost my son. I can’t lose you too. You are all I have now”
For the briefest second, something flickered across his face—maybe pain, maybe memory—but it disappeared before I could hold onto it. His voice turned to ice.
“You should’ve thought about that before Noah died.”
I flinched as if he had struck me. Fresh tears burned down my cheeks.
“I said I was sorry—”
“And sorry doesn’t bring my son back.”
The cold fury in his tone silenced the room. Daniel’s mother folded her arms, her mouth twisting with bitterness.
“My poor grandson,” she muttered. “Such a beautiful child, wasted because his mother couldn’t even do the bare minimum.”
I lowered my head, shame settling heavy in my chest. My trembling fingers reached for the papers. As I opened them, my stomach dropped.
He wanted everything. The penthouse. The cars. The savings. Even Noah’s trust fund.
I looked up, confused and devastated. “Why are you taking everything?”
Daniel let out a short, humorless laugh that chilled me to the bone.
“What? You thought you deserved money after killing my son?”
The room seemed to tilt. I went completely still.
“No—”
“Or was that the plan?” he continued, his voice low and vicious. “Kill the child and take my money afterward?”
“Daniel…” Horror choked me. “You know I would never hurt Noah.”
“Really?” His eyes were dark and unrelenting. “Because he’s dead, Amelia.”
The pain in my chest was so sharp I thought I might collapse. I clutched the edge of the table. “I loved him,” I whispered, the words breaking apart. “God, I loved him so much.”
“Clearly not enough.”
Something inside me shattered completely. I covered my mouth with shaking hands as sobs tore through me. Daniel watched with a detachment that terrified me more than rage ever could. Like my pain no longer reached him at all.
“I can change,” I pleaded after several ragged breaths. “I’ll lose the weight. I’ll go to therapy. I’ll do anything you want, Daniel. Please…”
His face twisted with disgust. “You still don’t get it. I don’t want you anymore.” He leaned forward slightly. “You disgust me.”
The silence that followed was suffocating. Sophia looked down at her hands. Even Daniel’s mother stayed quiet. Humiliation burned through me—my swollen eyes, the hospital band, the body I had fought for years to change. In that moment I saw myself exactly as he saw me: pathetic, ugly, worthless.
Maybe he was right.
A fresh wave of sobs overtook me. “Please,” I whispered one last time. “Please don’t do this to me.”
Daniel slid a pen across the table without a word.
I stared at it through blurred vision. My hand moved almost on its own, trembling violently as I signed away the last pieces of the life we had built. Each stroke of the pen felt like another death. By the time I finished, I could barely breathe.
Daniel took the papers back immediately, not even sparing me a glance. “Leave your car keys on the table before you go.”
I blinked, dazed. “What?”
“I bought the car.” His gaze swept coldly over the penthouse. “Actually, leave everything. I paid for all of it.”
“Daniel… where am I supposed to go?”
“I don’t care.”
Tears streamed down my face. “Please. Not tonight.”
He stood slowly, towering over me. “I said get out.”
Fear spiked through me. “This is my home too.”
“No,” he said flatly. “It was.”
When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed my arm hard. I gasped in pain as he dragged me toward the door. I stumbled after him, legs weak.
“Daniel, please—”
“You should’ve thought about all this before you failed our son.”
Sophia rose abruptly. “Daniel, stop—”
He ignored her. The front door swung open, and cold rain poured down in sheets. My sobs grew frantic.
“I have nowhere to go—”
He shoved me out into the storm and slammed the door behind me. The metallic click of the lock sounded like the end of everything.
I stood frozen on the wet pavement for a long moment before my knees buckled. I collapsed, rain soaking through my clothes instantly and plastering my hair to my face. Lights began flickering on in nearby houses. Curtains twitched. Neighbors watching.
I covered my face with my hands as humiliation and grief twisted together until I could hardly breathe. My marriage was gone. My son was gone. My entire life—gone.
And I started thinking that maybe I deserved every bit of it.
Then a soft voice cut through the rain.
“Mrs. Carter…”
I looked up weakly. An older woman from the neighboring house stood a few feet away, umbrella tilted against the downpour. She looked nervous. Guilty, even.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I should’ve told you sooner.”
I frowned through the tears and rain. “Told me… what?”
The woman hesitated, glancing back toward Daniel’s door before stepping closer.
“I saw what happened the night your little boy died.”
- Writer
