Chapter Three He Still Thinks I’ll Fold
1192 Words
Adrian’s face went blank for a full second.
Then he let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to,” I answered. “Every time you asked me to cover another debt. Every time you told me Lena was just a friend who needed help. Every time you came home late and expected me to believe it. You said it clearly enough.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re twisting things. You’re upset about something and you’re taking it out on me.”
“I’m not upset.”
“Then what is this?”
“This is me done.”
He took another step closer. The old Adrian move—crowd my space until I backed down. I stayed exactly where I was.
“Listen to me,” he said, voice dropping into the tone he always used when he wanted me to feel unreasonable. “We’ve both been under stress. The company’s been struggling again. I’ve been distracted. If I made you feel neglected, I’m sorry. But divorce? That’s extreme.”
“It’s not extreme. It’s late.”
“Thea, I thought you love me.”
I looked at him and felt nothing. No pull. No ache. Just a clean, cold distance.
“I used to.”
The words hit harder than I expected. His eyes narrowed.
“You’re not yourself right now. Something’s wrong. Did someone say something to you? Did June put ideas in your head?”
June spoke from the couch for the first time. “Don’t drag me into your mess.”
Adrian ignored her. His attention stayed locked on me.
“Come home. We’ll talk properly. Just the two of us.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“You’re my wife.”
“Not for much longer.”
He reached for my wrist. I moved it away before he could touch me. The rejection was small, but it landed. I saw it in the way his shoulders tensed.
“You’re serious,” he said slowly.
“Yes.”
“And there’s nothing I can say?”
“Nothing you haven’t already said in the last three years.”
Silence stretched. I watched him search for the version of me he knew, the one who would eventually soften, explain, apologize for making him uncomfortable. That version was gone.
He exhaled through his nose. “Fine. You want space? Take a few days. Cool off. Then we’ll talk when you’re ready to be reasonable.”
“I’m filing today.”
His jaw flexed. “You’re making a mistake.”
“The only mistake I made was staying this long.”
He stared at me like he was seeing a stranger wearing my face. Then he turned toward the door.
Halfway there he stopped.
“This isn’t over,” he said without looking back.
“It is for me.”
The door shut harder than necessary.
June waited three full seconds before she spoke.
“Holy shit.”
I didn’t answer. My hands were steady. My pulse was even. I had expected shaking, tears, the old familiar collapse. None of it came.
June stood up. “He’s going to spiral.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to call your parents next. Or show up at your job.”
“Let him.”
She studied my face. “You’re really not going to explain anything to him, are you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
My phone buzzed. Diana Brooks had replied.
Deposit received. Draft can be ready by 4 p.m. Can you come to the office?
I typed back yes.
June watched me. “You’re calm. It’s kind of terrifying.”
“I’ve had practice.”
She didn’t ask what that meant.
I grabbed my bag. “I need to go.”
“Want me to come with you?”
“Not this time.”
She nodded. “Text me when you’re done.”
I left the apartment and took the stairs instead of the elevator. Outside, the air felt ordinary. People walked past like the world wasn’t twelve days from going dark. I kept my eyes forward.
At the corner of the street my phone rang again. Unknown number.
I already knew.
I answered.
Lena’s voice was careful. “Thea? It’s me.”
I stopped walking.
“How did you get this number?”
“Adrian gave it to me. He said you’re… not well. He asked me to check on you.”
Of course he did.
“I’m fine.”
“He told me you asked for a divorce. Out of nowhere.”
“It wasn’t out of nowhere.”
A small pause. “Can we meet? Just for a few minutes. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
I almost smiled.
In the other life I would have agreed. I would have listened to her soft voice and her careful excuses and somehow ended up comforting her.
This time I said, “There’s no misunderstanding.”
“Thea, please. Adrian is really worried. He thinks you’re having some kind of breakdown.”
“Tell him I’m clearer than I’ve ever been.”
“You’re not being fair.”
“Fair,” I repeated. “That’s an interesting word coming from you.”
She went quiet.
I started walking again. “Don’t call me again.”
“Wait—”
I hung up and blocked the number.
The lawyer’s office was twenty minutes away. I spent the entire walk replaying the look on Adrian’s face when I pulled my wrist away. Confusion. Then the first real crack of anger. He still thought this was temporary. He still thought I would come back once I “calmed down.”
Let him think it.
By the time I reached Diana Brooks’ building, my decision had settled into something solid.
The receptionist sent me straight in. Diana was in her forties, sharp eyes, no wasted smiles. She slid a folder across the desk.
“Adultery grounds. Joint assets. I can file as early as tomorrow morning if you sign today.”
I opened the folder. The language was clean and final.
I signed every page.
When I stepped back outside, the sky was already starting to dim. My phone showed three missed calls from Adrian and one text.
We need to talk. I’m serious, Thea. You’re not thinking straight.
I didn’t reply.
Instead I opened a new note on my phone and typed a single line.
Day 1. Divorce papers signed. He still thinks I’ll come back.
I locked the screen.
Across the street, a man in a suit was arguing with a woman near a parked car. Their voices rose. Ordinary noise. Ordinary life.
Twelve days left.
I turned toward the subway and kept walking, already planning the next move. Adrian would come to my workplace tomorrow. He always did when he felt control slipping. He would bring soft words and quiet threats and the same old certainty that I belonged to him.
I was going to let him.
And then I was going to show him exactly how wrong he was.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD