Chapter 3
1253 Words
Chloe's Pov
Ayana's house smelled like vanilla and hope.
The moment I stepped inside, I took in the large living room and the photos of my nephews on the walls. It was nice enjoying the safe warmth of a house that hasn't been stained with betrayal.
“Aunty Chloe!” The twins : Nova and Nimo beamed when they saw me at the door.
I knelt, wrapping my arms around them like she was mine. “Hey, kids. Miss me?”
“Yes!” They both squealed, tightening their tiny arms around my neck.
“Boys, Aunty Chloe is tired from her journey. Why don't you go play while I show her to her room?” Ayana said, pulling them away from me so I could breathe.
They nodded excitedly and skipped away to their room.
Ayana turned to face me, looking impossibly sharp in her gray loungewear like every inch the lawyer she was. “Great. They're out of here. Now, sit. You've come a long way.”
She was right both literally and figuratively. The journey to Ayana's house in Boston was a 5-hour drive and I couldn't feel my legs.
I collapsed on the couch with a sigh and dragged a hand through my hair while Ayana helped me with my luggage.
“You got any water?” I asked.
“Fridge.” She called back as she took my bags and Belle's upstairs.
I struggled to my feet and tugged to the fridge. At five-foot-one, Ayana's fridge was a wall of memories — a picture of her twins, Nova and Nimo, their father, Reese, and a family picture they took while wearing matching outfits. I remember they'd taken that last year. A bitter smile formed on my lips as I traced my cold fingers on the pictures, wishing I'd build a family like theirs. My eyes filled when I realized I never would.
“You okay, bestie?” Ayana asked, wiping her hand on a napkin as she entered.
When I turned to face her, she exhaled a short breath. “Sit. We've got work to do.”
After having dinner and making sure the kids were bathed and put to bed, Ayana and I snuck to her home office.
We sat across from each other on the floor. Court documents between us and our coffee mugs emptied.
After discussing the way forward, I knew exactly what I had to do.
“I won't be civil about this.” I said.
Ayana smirked. “Excellent. Because neither will I.”
Since then, it's been me and Ayana. They became my family when I didn't have any to call mine. Not for one day did Ayana make me feel out of place even when I thought I was inconvenienced. I was glad to have her as a friend.
A few weeks down the road and it's been us, healing together, fighting our battles together. Well, fighting mine.
After sending Brandon the divorce papers, he refused to sign it. The divorce stretched out for months. He had ignored every call, text, and every lawyer's letter including Ayana's. I was nearly at my wit's end until he finally responded with a text.
Be at New York County Supreme Court on Monday by 9 AM.
I was there at 8.
We sat across from each other, the table between us feeling more like a chasm than a piece of furniture. The courtroom was cold, clinical and nothing like the fiery arguments or silent silent standoffs we'd had at home earlier.
Brandon looked calm, detached. Too calm. As if hadn't ignored every call, text, and every lawyer's letter including Ayana's but today… he signed it.
He scribbled his signature on the paper and that was what I wanted. What I needed. I picked up the pen with steady fingers and without hesitation, I signed my name like I was reclaiming something that I had lost.
It was done.
There were no dramatic outbursts, no last-minute begging. Just ink on paper and a clerk confirming what the rest of the world would soon know — Brandon Darlington and I were over.
Ayana threw her arms around me in a warm hug. “You did it, girl. You did.”
“We did it.” I hugged her back, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
She pulled away and went off to greet an old colleague near the exit. I took a step back, needing a moment to collect myself. I had barely taken a step before I saw him.
Brandon.
Striding towards me through the crowd, anger simmering beneath his clean-shaven face.
“Think you've won huh,” he drawled, sunglasses on, a forced smirk in place. “Look at you, blue suit and heels. You're really committed to this role, aren't you, you little b***h?”
I ignored him and kept walking but he didn't stop.
“You'll be back,” he smiled, wrapping his arm around the brunette. “3 days tops, Chloe. That's what I'm giving you before you come crawling back. Believe it or not, you're just playing hard to get. That's always been your thing, isn't it?”
I stopped, turned. “You still don't get it, do you, Brandon? I'm not playing anything. I'm done.”
Then I walked away like he was dust on my heels.
Ayana and I got ice cream and wine for celebration on our way home. She couldn't contain our excitement and neither could I.
“I'm glad you finally got rid of that scumbag.” She said as we entered the house.
“I know, right? I can't recall what made me fall in love with him in the first place.” I sighed.
“Love, honey. It's called love.” She laughed.
I rolled my eyes. “As if.”
We dropped the items on the kitchen counter and called out to the kids. Reese wasn't home today. He had an emergency in the ER and wouldn't return to later. So we hired a babysitter to watch the kids while we were gone. She let the kids out and we paid her for her time.
“Mommy!” The kids ran to meet us, smoldering us with kisses and hugs.
Ayana peeled off her jacket. “You know what would make me feel better?”
“Ice cream?” Nova squealed.
His mom laughed and shook her head. “No… the news.”
She grabbed the remote and changed the channel to the local news channel. They'll definitely cover today's court decisions. At least that's what I thought.
Kayla Marris read out in a cool, solemn voice : “CEO Brandon Darlington Cries in Court Over Betrayal : Claims Ex-Wife Left Him For Another Man.”
Ayana scoffed in disbelief. “What the hell?”
Marris aired a video of him wiping fake tears and talking about how I abandoned him, broke his heart and how I was the unfaithful one.
Ayana stood up so fast, the centre table shook. “I swear to God I'm going over there right now and shoving a cease-and-desist down his f*****g throat.”
“No,” I shook my head. “That's what he wants. He wants me to be emotional and reckless.”
She paused. “You're right.”
I looked up at her. “We'll wait… and hit when it counts.”
She nodded, jaw tight. Then she pulled me into a hug. “I've got you.”
“I know.”
- Writer
