Saw His Name On Her Thigh, I Divorced

Chapter 3

On the morning of our departure, Adrian sent another voice message.

"The celebration dinner is tomorrow night. Bring our daughter. Make a toast to Charlotte, and we can put that tattoo fiasco behind us. I've saved you a seat, so don't let me down again."

I tapped his profile picture.

Our conversation had been pinned at the top of my chat list for 5 years.

Whenever he traveled, I would check it before bed to see whether he had replied.

My finger hovered over "Block" for a moment.

Just then, a "Five Years Ago Today" memory notification flashed across the screen.

I didn't play the old voice message. I confirmed the block, and our conversation disappeared.

Afterward, I left the family group chat, Ann's class group, and the anniversary party group, keeping only the evidence Bonnie needed.

30 minutes later, an unfamiliar account sent me a friend request.

The note attached to it contained a single taunt.

Charlotte: You really think blocking him changes anything?

I accepted the request.

Charlotte immediately sent me a photo.

She was lounging on the bed in the primary bedroom, wearing my silk nightgown. In the mirror behind her, Adrian's tie lay carelessly draped across the foot of the bed.

Then she sent a message.

Charlotte: He said he's not going home tonight. Your nightgown is comfortable. Too bad the color doesn't suit me.

As I stared at the neckline she had stretched out, a wave of nausea rolled through me.

I saved the photo and forwarded it to Bonnie along with the account details.

She replied almost immediately.

Bonnie: This is useful evidence, Ms. Pembroke. Please preserve the original message and its metadata.

I typed back.

Elena: Okay.

Then I called a cleaning service and asked them to clear out the primary bedroom and replace all the bedding.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Kent James was standing outside.

He had been an upperclassman of mine at university and was now the head of the company's overseas branch.

Ever since the hiring process began, he had been handling the details of my relocation on behalf of the company. Now that he was back in the country, he had offered to drive us to the airport.

He didn't ask about my marriage. He simply picked up the heaviest suitcase.

"Do you have all your documents?"

"I checked them three times."

"Then you're good. We'll deal with everything else once we arrive."

My daughter came running out of her room in a pale yellow jacket, smiling brightly up at him.

"Kent, do I look pretty?"

"Like a little princess."

Kent crouched down and fixed her crooked button.

"But first, Your Highness, you have to promise me you'll wear your seat belt in the car."

She giggled and threw herself into his arms.

Before getting into the car, I looked back at the house we had lived in for five years.

Adrian's slippers were still sitting beside the entryway.

On the refrigerator hung Ann's crayon family portrait. The figure labeled "Dad" had been erased so many times that only a pale smudge remained.

I reached out to take it, but only tore away the part with my daughter's figure.

As the car pulled away, sunlight streamed through the window and fell across Ann's peaceful sleeping face.

My phone chimed with confirmation that our flight check-in was complete.

Out of habit, I opened the blocked-messages folder to see whether anything new had appeared.

The page loaded. I stared at it for a second, then closed it.

Kent glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

He offered no words of comfort. He simply turned down the music.

"4 hours until takeoff."

I leaned back in my seat and slowly exhaled.

"That's enough."

Enough time for us to leave.

And more than enough time for the divorce papers to reach Adrian.