THE WIFE HE REGRETTED LOSING

SIGN THE DIVORCE

The pen felt like lead in Lola’s hand.

She stared at the divorce papers spread across the little metal table by her hospital bed. The words all blurred together—clinical, heartless. Divorce Agreement—termination of Marriage. Just a few lines, and three years got wiped out like they were nothing.

Rain hammered the hospital windows. The noise filled the quiet room, steady and relentless, like it refused to let her forget where she was and what was happening.

Her fingers tightened around the pen, and her hand shook.

Daniel stood across from her, looking perfectly composed. He watched her, dark eyes flicking from her face to the documents he’d arranged so neatly. Every page stacked, every detail in place. Almost like he’d scheduled this. Just another item on his to-do list.

“Sign it,” Daniel said. His voice was low, calm, like he was asking her to initial a delivery slip.

Lola just kept still, eyes drifting up to his face. Same sharp jaw. Same posture. Same cold authority. But now, all she saw in him was distance—a wall she never could cross.

“How long have you been planning this?” she asked, voice barely more than a whisper.

Daniel frowned, the smallest wrinkle between his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“These papers,” she said, barely brushing her fingers over the corner. “They didn’t just show up out of nowhere. So, how long?”

He hesitated—just a beat—then glanced towards the bed.

Vanessa watched them, openly curious, her delicate hand resting on her stomach. She looked oddly satisfied. Peaceful. Like she already knew how this story ended.

Daniel looked back at Lola. “They were prepared recently.”

“Recently,” she repeated, almost laughing. The usual evasiveness. The way he never quite answered her questions.

Of course, he’d planned this. The late nights. Mysterious calls. All those unexplained absences. They’d all been steps, marching towards this table, this moment.

Her chest hurt.

She looked at Vanessa again—pregnant, glowing, sure of her place in the world. Life grew in her, and Lola’s own child was gone.

“You’re quiet,” Daniel pressed, now with a hint of irritation.

She barely heard him at first. “You want me to sign these right now?”

“Yes,” he said, not even a second’s pause. Final. Like it was nothing.

Lola set the pen back on the table. The click seemed loud.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

Lola leaned back, still so tired from the morning, but finding a little strength inside. “You seem awfully eager.”

Daniel folded his arms. “This marriage is already over.”

“Is it?” Her voice stayed soft, but her eyes were sharp.

He bristled. “Don’t start this.”

Lola exhaled. “I just lost a child today. My body is still recovering. And you want me to sign divorce papers in a hospital room with your mistress watching?”

His mouth tightened. “This conversation is pointless.”

Lola’s fingers curled, knuckles white. “Why the hurry, Daniel?”

He stepped closer, shadow falling across the papers. “Dragging this out helps no one. And Vanessa doesn’t deserve stress right now.”

Of course. Vanessa.

Behind him, Vanessa shifted in the bed. “Daniel,” she murmured, so considerate, “I don’t want to make more trouble. Lola probably just needs some time. She’s had a traumatic day.”

Her sweetness sounded so rehearsed, so false.

Daniel turned to her. “Don’t worry about it,” he told Vanessa, gentle in a way Lola had never heard before.

Lola just watched. Three years, and now he has saved his kindness for someone else.

“Lola,” Daniel snapped her out of it, his patience all used up. “Sign the papers.”

She didn’t move.

Rain battered the glass.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Daniel warned.

She looked up at him, voice gone quiet again. “Harder?”

“Yes.”

She ran her finger down the pen. The cold felt sharp against her skin.

“What if I don’t sign?”

He didn’t blink. “You’ll regret it.”

“Really?” she asked, pretending not to care.

He stayed steady, but his words were sharp as knives. “You’ve been living off my support for three years. You don’t have your own income.”

Yeah, he’s not wrong. She’d quit her job because he’d said, “I’ll take care of it.” She thought that was love. Now she saw how wrong she’d been.

He kept going. “If you don’t cooperate, this divorce will get messy. You won’t walk away with anything. No money, no assets—nothing.”

Lola blinked, but her stare stayed steady. The man she’d trusted with everything was threatening to leave her with nothing but pain.

Vanessa just watched, hands tracing her stomach, like she was counting down the minutes.

The pen was still there, staring her down.

Lola picked it up one last time.

The room went silent.

Daniel kept his eyes locked on her. Vanessa leaned forward, waiting.

Lola lowered the tip to the page. Just for a moment, her hand hovered there.

Three years. She saw it all—their wedding, their first apartment, the nights she waited up for him, the positive pregnancy test, that precious ultrasound heartbeat.

All gone.

She took a breath and sighed.

Her name came out clear and steady. When she finished, she set the pen down. The sound almost echoed.

Daniel grabbed the papers and checked the signature. He looked pleased—barely even looked at her.

But in that moment, as he packed up the documents, Lola felt it: something in her had died. He didn’t notice. He didn’t see the way her eyes changed.

But inside, something was gone. For good.