Sixty days to leave you

The kind that changes everything

“Are you being serious right now?”

Priya stared at her from across the small cafe table, both hands wrapped around her mug, eyes wide with the kind of disbelief that only a best friend could pull off without it feeling like judgement.

Sera had told her everything.

Not with tears. Not with shaking hands. She had told it all the way she had been living it. Quietly. Steadily. Like someone reading out a list of things that had already happened and could not be undone.

Priya had listened without interrupting. That alone told Sera how serious she understood it to be. Priya never slayed quiet.

“I know how it sounds,” Sera said.

“ it sounds like you have completely lost your mind.” Priya set her mug down. “Sera. He has a child. A whole child. With another woman. While married to you. And you’re sitting here asking for sixty days instead of a lawyer and a full investigation.”

“I have a lawyer.”

“You know what I mean.”

Sera looked down at her own cup. The tea had gone cold. She hadn’t touched it in a while. She had just been holding it the way you hold something when you need your hands to feel occupied.

“I just need time,”She said softly. “To do this properly. To leave without it looking like I was thrown out.”

“Nobody would think that.”

“I would think that.” She looked up. “I would know.”

Priya exhaled slowly. She leaned forward and studied Sera’s face the way she had been doing since they were teenagers.

Looking for the crack. Looking for the place where the composure ended, and the real pain began.

She found it. She always did.

“How long have you suspected?” Priya asked, quieter now.

Sera was quiet for a moment.

“A while,” she admitted. “I kept telling myself I was imagining things. That I was being insecure. That had no real proof.” She paused. “Then I found the drawing.”

“And the phone call from the little girl

“Yes.”

Silence fell between them. Outside the café window, the street was busy. Normal. People walking, laughing, carrying groceries.

The kind of ordinary life that felt very far away from where Sera was sitting.

“What do you actually want from these sixty days?” Priya asked.

“Honestly.”

Sera thought about it. Really thought about it.

“I want to leave knowing I tried,” she said at last. “I want to look back on this and know I didn’t just disappear. That I stood in that house and I was real and I was present and I didn’t let them make me feel like I never existed.”

Her voice stayed steady.

But her hands tighten around the cold cup.

Priya looked at her for a long time. Then she let out a breath and leaned back in her chair.

“You are too good for all of them,” she said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Sera gave a small smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes. But it was real.

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I’m leaving.”

The house was dark when she got home.

She assumed Elliot wasn’t back yet. His car wasn’t in the driveway. She changed into something comfortable, put a simple dinner together from what was in the refrigerator, and sat down at the kitchen table alone.

She was halfway through eating when she heard the front door open.

Elliott walked in slowly. His jacket was over one arm. His tie was loosened. He looked tired in the particular way he always looked tired after a day that had not gone the way he planned. He stopped when he saw the light on in the kitchen.

He walked in.

He looked at the table. Then at her.

“You cooked,” he said.

“I cooked for myself.” she said simply. “But there’s extra. The weather was cold today. I made rice and pepper soup. You can have some if you want.”

He stood there for a moment. She didn’t push. She turned back to her bowl.

She heard him pull out of the chair across from her and sit down

She got up without a word, filled a bowl, and placed it in front of him. Then she didn’t speak for a while.

It wasn’t a comfortable silence. But it wasn’t a hostile one either.

It was just two people sitting in the same room for the first time in what felt like a very long time, not fighting, not pretending, just existing.

“Elliot,” she said at last.

He looked up.

“Nicole came to the house this morning.”

Something shifted in his face. He put the spoon down.

“I know,” he said.

She looked at him. “Your daughter was the one who called me yesterday. Not the other way around. I want you to know that.”

He didn’t respond right away.

“She’s five,” he finally said. His voice was low. “She found my phone. I didn’t know she had called anyone.”

Sera nodded slowly. She picked up her spoon again.

“She sounded like a sweet girl,” she said quietly.

Elliot looked at her then. Really looked at her. With something behind his eyes that she couldn’t fully name and had never seen there before.

He opened his mouth.

He picked his spoon back up and finished the soup without saying another word. When he was done, he stood, pushed the chair back, and carried his bowl to the sink. He rinsed it himself.

That was new. In four years, he has never once done that.

He turned to leave. Then he stopped at the kitchen doorway.

“There is a function next Friday,” he said. His back was still to her. “A client’s dinner. Formal. My company is being recognized for a regional business award.”

“Congratulations,”she said genuinely.

A pause.

“They sent two invitations. One for me. One for my wife.”

Sera went still

He didn’t turn around.

“I’m telling you because you said you wanted to be treated properly. Like a wife.” His voice was flat. Careful. Like a man choosing every word before he allowed it out. “So I’m telling you. The dinner is next Friday. Seven o’clock. You would need to dress formally.”

He walked out before she could respond.

She sat at the kitchen table alone, the empty bowls between them, the candle she had lit earlier neatly burned down to nothing.

Her heart was doing something complicated in her chest.

She pressed both palms flat on the table and breathed.

He had just asked her to come with him.

Not warmly. Not kindly. Without even turning to face her.

But he had asked.

She was still sitting there, trying to make sense of it, when her phone lit up on the table beside her.

An unknown number. Again.

This time it wasn’t a child’s voice.

It was a woman’s. Calm. Precise. The kind of voice that belonged to someone who was used to being listened to.

“Mrs Voss.” the woman said. “My name is Dr. Adaeze Cole. I’m a family lawyer. I was contacted recently regarding your marriage to Elliot Voss.” A brief pause. “I think there are some things about your husband that you deserve to know. Things that go beyond what you have already found out.”

Sera’s hand tightened around the phone

“What kind of things?” She asked quietly.

Another pause. Longer this time.

“The kind that changes everything.”