Seven Days To Forget The Billionaire

The Papers

Anna’s POV

The realization hit me in the morning. I was actually going to end this marriage. It hurt a little but there was something strangely peaceful about waking up after making decisions that had terrified me a night before.

Yes, I was still scared and uncertain but I wanted out. It wasn’t because I hated Mark. It would’ve been easier if I did. I still loved him deeply and that was the saddest part of all.

Love was really exhausting when I was the only one carrying it. I sat at the edge of my bed and looked down at my wedding ring.

Since I got married, I believed that taking it off was going to break me but now I wonder if keeping it on was doing something worse than that.

My fingers brushed over the ring. I wasn’t removing it, at least not now. I got dressed and came downstairs. Breakfast was already waiting but I couldn’t eat. The appetite just wasn’t there.

I opened my laptop right away. The divorce petition sat there in my inbox. I had read it three times the night before. This morning, I opened it again hoping something would change but my name was still there. ‘Anna Carthwell’, ‘Mark Brantley.’

“Wife and Husband.” Two words that were supposed to represent a lifetime. Now, it suddenly looked like something that could be written off by a signature.

I signed. My hand trembled while I was at it but I didn’t dare stop. I sent the document to the lawyer and it was done.

No drama, no tears, no crashing out. Just a quiet sound of a notification that confirmed the document had been received.

I closed my laptop and for some reason, I thought I would feel different but I didn’t. I had already been leaving the marriage long before I filled the paper. Maybe that was why.

My phone rang. It was Mark. It was strange. He never calls me in the morning. I picked. “Where are you?” His voice was calm, almost distracted. “Almost home.” There was a delay. “I need the figures for the Westbridge project.”

Of course that was all he wanted. What more did he think I could offer? I closed my eyes.”I’ll send them.” He let the silence wait a little longer, making it clear that he had nothing more to say then he ended the call.

I sat there staring at my phone. He didn’t ask how I was, he hadn’t asked about the hospital, he hadn’t even mentioned anything about my appointment.

I have seven days and all my husband could worry about is a business report. I turned on my phone but I didn’t send the figures immediately.

I sat and let the silence stretch. He could wait; it was a small thing after all. I spent the rest of my morning sorting through my things. Not everything, just the things that mattered.

There were clothes I had never worn, jewellery I had forgotten I owned and gifts that had once meant something to me.

I made three piles. The ones to keep, the ones to give away, the ones to leave behind. Apparently, I had spent the whole of my life in this marriage collecting things I didn’t really need.

Around noon, my lawyer called me. Everything was ready. The papers would be delivered to Mark that afternoon. My stomach squeezed when I heard that.

I wondered what his reaction would be. Would he be mad? Would he miss me? Would he ask me why? I hated that a small part of me still hoped for his love.

My lawyer asked me if I wanted the papers delivered to him. “Yes.” I ended the call then I sat quietly for some time.

I had spent years imagining what a life without Mark would feel like. I wasn’t going to live long enough to see what happened afterward and that hurt more than anything.

I walked upstairs and found Mark’s drawer open. His watch was there. I picked it up. I remember getting it for him after a successful business deal.

He kissed my forehead and that was one of the last times that I could swear that he loved me. I put it back; some memories are better left untouched.

By evening, I was sitting alone in the room when my phone vibrated. It was a message from my lawyer. “Delivered.” That meant that Mark was now with the papers. I stared at the message from my lawyer.

The front door opened. Mark was home. He walked slowly through the hallways. I knew he was going to see the envelope. He started to walk again but this time, it was towards me.

I remained seated while he approached the doorway. The envelope was in his hand, his expression was unreadable.

He looked at me for a while, then at the papers before raising his head slowly back at me. “What is this?” I had imagined this moment enough times to know how to respond. “Divorce papers.”

He stared at me and for her first time in a while, he looked shocked. “You’re divorcing me?” That question hit me like a bomb. “Yes.” He took a step into the room. “Why?”

That question almost made me laugh. Was that even a question? “I don’t think this marriage is what I want for myself.”

He stared at me for a long while. Something in his expression changed. “Okay. If that’s what you want.” My heart sank. Was that all he had to say? No fights, no questions, not even an attempt to stop me.

He walked towards the table and dropped the papers then he picked up a pen. I watched him sign. His signature moved across the page like he had been waiting for this day.

And just like that, three years gone in seconds. He placed the pen down. “I believe that would be all.” I looked at him. There was actually nothing else to say. “Yes.”

He nodded and walked away. I looked down at the divorce papers. My eyes burned with tears. It was clear to me that he’d never choose me.

He didn’t even need to think it through. I pressed my palm against my chest and took a shaky breath. Too many things seemed to be going on at the same time.

I dried up my tears. I had a few days left and now, I had the freedom to decide what to do with it.