Losing Everything
Lora’s POV
“What is this?”
The words barely made it past my throat, drowned out by the roar of my own pulse. My fingers hovered over the manila folder on the mahogany table, the same table I’d worked double shifts to help him buy.
Jackson faced me, but he might as well have been a stranger. The spark that had once lit his eyes when I walked in was gone. The easy smile, the gentle brush of his hand on my shoulder….they had vanished. His jaw was tight, muscles twitching. And his eyes…those eyes I had memorized in every kind of light…were hollow. Empty, like looking into ice.
My chest constricted. Something was terribly wrong.
I forced my gaze back to the folder, my breathing shallow. No. Please, no.
Panic clawed its way up my throat. “Is it the company? Did the deal collapse?” The words tumbled out, frantic, uncontrolled.
“What’s going on, Jackson? Why are you staring at me like that?”
Like I was nothing. Worse than nothing.
My mind raced over every sacrifice I had made—the money I withheld from my mother’s healthcare, the nights I pushed myself past exhaustion, the meals I skipped, the friendships I let fade, all for him and our shared dream—or so I had thought.
“Look at you!” Jackson slammed his fist onto the table, the noise cracking the air. I jumped, my body recoiling. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to fail? For everything to fall apart?”
The words hit me like blows. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
“I want a divorce.” His tone was cold, deliberate, cutting. “You’re just an opportunist. A freeloader. I’m done with you.”
The room spun. My hands moved on their own, numb, detached, pulling the folder closer. I could hear the faint rustle of paper, like leaves skimming concrete.
DIVORCE AGREEMENT
The words stared back at me, sharp and unyielding.
“Hold on…Jackie, please…” My voice cracked.
“There’s been a misunderstanding. We can fix this…”
I reached toward him, desperate to bridge the growing chasm between us. My fingers brushed his arm, seeking any sign that this wasn’t real.
His hand shot up and struck my cheek. Pain exploded across my face, hot and sharp. I stumbled back, my hip smashing into the corner of the console table. A vase toppled and shattered across the hardwood floor.
I collapsed to the ground, knees buckling. My hand flew to my cheek, already swelling, burning. Tears streamed down my face, blurring the room into a haze of colors and shadows.
“Get. Out. Of. My. Life.”
Every word was a nail in my chest.
“Jack…please…don’t…” My voice was raw and desperate, trembling. In him, I had placed all my trust, my heart, my future, my life. Five years of my youth, my effort, my savings, my sacrifices, all discarded as though I were nothing.
The sound of heels snapped me upright. She appeared, flawless and poised, radiating wealth and ease. Silk blouse, sparkling diamonds, perfect makeup. Everything she had on, screamed privilege, effortless beauty. My stomach twisted. She was not supposed to be here.
“Darling,” she murmured softly, her eyes flicking to me, then twisting into disdain. A sneer. A look that made my throat tighten.
It was the quiet closeness between them….the touch of her hand on his arm, the way he leaned toward her….that made something inside me shrink.
“Nothing significant, darling,” Jackson said, not even glancing at me. “Just throwing out the garbage.”
Throwing out the garbage.
The words ripped through me. My heart felt shredded. Air left my lungs in jagged gasps. I was drowning in the wreckage of everything I had believed.
“T-trash?” I croaked. “What do you mean? I don’t… I can’t…”
They kissed, right in front of me. His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her close, and she melted into him as though she belonged there. Just like he had kissed me at the beginning—before everything changed, before I slowly disappeared from his world.
Once they separated, they walked to the door without a glance. As if I were invisible. As if I had never existed.
Something inside me broke.
“You can’t be serious!” I cried, my voice trembling with panic. I tried to stand, but my legs gave out. “After everything I gave up for you…everything…you can’t just leave!”
I gasped, uneven. “I postponed my mother’s treatment for your business. I worked myself to exhaustion. You owe me!”
Then, he stopped. Looked back, and started walking towards me.
For a moment, hope flickered. Perhaps he would see reason. Perhaps…
His hand shot out, seizing my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. His eyes were ice. “What have you accomplished that’s remarkable? Did you build me an empire? Serve me the world on a silver platter? You were always nothing.”
He pushed me away. I stumbled, hitting the ground hard. The divorce papers floated around me like snow.
“And don’t you ever…” His face was inches from mine, twisted in something like hatred. “…use your martyr act to make me feel guilty. I don’t owe you anything.”
He walked back to her, took her hand, left, and the door slammed behind them. The sound echoed inside me like a final verdict.