Chapter 1 The Divorce Papers
909 Words
Tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of Evelyn Hart’s marriage.
Instead…
Her billionaire husband left their wedding anniversary dinner to answer another woman’s call.
The surrounding restaurant buzzed with laughter.
Champagne glasses clinked.
Couples leaned across candlelit tables, smiling at one another.
Evelyn sat alone.
Across from her, Damien’s chair had remained empty for four hours.
On the table rested three things.
A cold steak.
A velvet ring box.
And a dark navy notebook.
She looked at it quietly.
Not yet.
Not until everything was over.
Her phone vibrated.
Damien Blackwood.
For a brief second…
Hope won.
She answered immediately.
“Damien?”
Before he could speak, another voice broke through the line.
Soft.
Fragile.
Tearful.
“Damien…”
“My ankle…”
“I think it’s broken.”
Sophia.
Evelyn recognized the voice instantly.
She heard Damien grab his car keys.
“I’m on my way.”
No hesitation.
No questions.
Just certainty.
Not for his wife.
For another woman.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“…Do you remember what today is?”
Silence.
Then Damien answered,
“It’s an emergency.”
“I’ll explain later.”
She smiled.
A small, exhausted smile.
“You forgot.”
Another pause.
“Evelyn.”
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Something inside her…
Finally stopped hurting.
“You’re right.”
She whispered.
“It doesn’t need to be hard anymore.”
She ended the call.
The waiter approached carefully.
“Ma’am…”
“Would you like us to reheat the steak?”
Evelyn looked at the untouched plate.
Then smiled politely.
“No.”
“I don’t think he’ll be coming.”
She stood.
Picked up the velvet box.
Picked up the navy notebook.
Walked out of the restaurant alone.
The rain had already begun.
She didn’t open the umbrella.
Three years ago…
She would have waited.
Tonight…
She simply walked away.
The Blackwood mansion was silent.
She entered without turning on the lights.
Everything looked exactly the way she had left it that morning.
Everything…
Except herself.
Upstairs, she packed one suitcase.
Clothes.
Sketchbooks.
Her passport.
A leather folder containing documents Damien had never once asked about.
When she reached the wedding photo on the nightstand, she stopped.
The woman in the picture looked impossibly happy.
She touched the frame gently.
“I’m sorry.”
“I kept asking her to wait.”
Then she turned the photograph face down.
The front door opened just after midnight.
Damien stepped inside, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
His shirt sleeve carried a faint stain of dried blood.
“Sophia needed stitches.”
“It took longer than expected.”
He looked up.
The suitcase.
The documents.
The notebook.
His expression barely changed.
“Evelyn…”
“If this is because of tonight—”
She interrupted him.
“It isn’t.”
She slid a document across the table.
“It’s because of every night before tonight.”
He glanced down.
DIVORCE AGREEMENT
A faint smile appeared.
Almost amused.
“This again?”
“You’ve threatened divorce before.”
“You’ll cool down tomorrow.”
He reached for the papers casually.
Like signing another business contract.
Evelyn watched him quietly.
Then…
She removed the wedding ring from her finger.
The ring landed softly on top of the divorce papers.
The tiny sound echoed through the empty house.
Damien froze.
For the first time that evening…
He actually looked at her.
There were no tears.
No anger.
No desperation.
Only calm.
The kind of calm that came after every tear had already been cried.
“I’m not asking for your permission.”
She met his eyes steadily.
“I’m informing you.”
He frowned.
“What about us?”
Evelyn looked at him for a long moment.
Then answered with heartbreaking honesty.
“You didn’t lose me tonight.”
“You lost me one disappointment at a time.”
Silence filled the room.
Neither of them spoke.
She picked up the navy notebook.
Walked toward him.
And placed it gently into his hands.
“It’s yours.”
He looked down.
The worn leather cover felt strangely warm.
Embossed across the front were silver letters.
The 99 Things You Need After I’m Gone
He frowned.
“A notebook?”
“My final handover.”
“Handover?”
“You’ll understand.”
She smiled.
A peaceful smile.
“The woman who remembered everything for you…”
“She resigned today.”
Before Damien could respond…
She turned.
Pulled the suitcase behind her.
And walked toward the door.
He didn’t stop her.
Because a part of him still believed…
She would come back tomorrow.
Just like every other argument.
The front door closed quietly.
The mansion fell into complete silence.
Damien stood alone.
The divorce papers remained unsigned.
The wedding ring still rested on the table.
For a long moment…
His eyes stayed on the notebook.
Almost absentmindedly…
He opened it.
The first page contained only a title.
Item No. 1
Never take your stomach medicine on an empty stomach.
Nothing else.
No explanation.
No accusation.
No farewell.
Damien frowned.
He turned the page.
Blank.
He flipped another.
Blank.
Slowly…
He looked back at the first sentence.
For reasons he couldn’t explain…
The notebook suddenly felt much heavier than paper should.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
Inside the empty house…
For the first time in three years—
No one reminded Damien Blackwood to take his medicine.
- Writer
