Divorced at Dawn, Desired by Dusk

The morning sun shone through the large windows of Blackwood Manor, casting golden streaks of light on the floor of the dining room. Aurora Blackwood stood in the center of the room, placing fresh white roses in a crystal vase. Today was the third anniversary of her wedding. Three years. One thousand and ninety-five days of trying to convince her husband to treat her like a wife. She glanced at the grandfather clock on the opposite wall. 7:15 a.m. Damian should have been downstairs already. Aurora smiled to herself as she adjusted the last rose in the vase. Despite everything, she prepared him breakfast herself. His favorite coffee, his favorite croissants, and his favorite omelet. Perhaps, this year, everything would change. Perhaps, Damian would change. The sound of approaching footsteps made Aurora’s heart pound in her chest. She turned around and was met with the sight of Damian Blackwood. He was tall, handsome, and powerful. The billionaire CEO of Blackwood International looked as handsome as ever in a tailored charcoal suit. His sharp features were as captivating as always, save for the cold expression on his face. Aurora forced a smile. “Good morning, Damian.” “Morning.” He replied, giving her a curt nod. Aurora’s smile widened. “Happy anniversary, Damian.” For a moment, a flicker of something unfamiliar crossed Damian’s face. Then, it was gone, replaced by the usual impassive mask. “Thank you.” Aurora waited. And waited. But, as she expected, Damian did not give her the gift she was hoping for. There was no happy anniversary greeting from her billionaire husband. No flowers. No presents. No smile. A dull ache blossomed in Aurora’s chest. It had been three years since their wedding, and she was still not accustomed to the way things were between them. Damian took a seat at the dining table, opening the morning newspaper. Aurora sat across from him, her heart heavy. “Will you be home tonight?” she asked softly. Damian scanned the paper, folding the corner of the page. “I have meetings.” “Oh.” Aurora’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Another night spent alone in the large empty house. Another day spent trying to convince Damian that she was more than just a trophy wife. The roses on the table suddenly seemed useless. Aurora forced herself to look at her plate. She would not cry. Not today. Not on their anniversary. The front doors opened, and the sound of approaching footsteps filled the room. A few seconds later, the family butler entered the dining room. “Young Master,” the butler said. He stepped closer and placed an envelope on the table in front of Damian. “It is from Attorney Morgan.” Damian looked up at the butler. “Leave it,” he said simply. “Yes, sir.” The butler left the room, and Aurora barely paid attention. Documents from the company arrived every day. There was nothing unusual about this. Damian opened the envelope and read the contents. A shadow of a scowl crossed his face as he slid a few papers across the table toward Aurora. “What is this?” Aurora asked. “Read it.” There was something in his voice that made Aurora’s stomach twist. Slowly, she took the documents from him and read the words on the page. PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE. For a moment, Aurora was too stunned to react. Her eyes were fixed on the words, her heart beating too fast. Then, she felt a wave of coldness rush through her veins. Her husband wanted a divorce. “What is this supposed to mean?” she asked finally. Damian looked up at her. “We should end this marriage.” Aurora stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “End this marriage?” she repeated. Surely, he was joking. Surely, this was some kind of cruel trick. But, as she looked into his cold, emotionless eyes, Aurora realized that this was no game. “Our arrangement has run its course,” Damian said simply. “Arrangement?” Aurora’s laugh was bitter. “Three years, Damian. Do you really think that our marriage is just some kind of business arrangement?” Her fingers curled into fists as she stared at him. “Is this because of her?” she asked quietly. For the first time, something flickered across Damian’s face. A shadow of something dark. Something painful. “Yes,” he said after a moment. A wave of familiar hurt crashed over Aurora’s chest. The woman. The other woman. The one who had stolen her husband’s heart. Aurora swallowed the lump in her throat. “I see.” A long silence stretched between them. Damian studied her carefully. Perhaps, he was expecting tears. Perhaps, he was expecting words. But, to his surprise, Aurora smiled. “So, that’s it, then.” Damian frowned. “Aurora - ” “No.” She raised a hand, stopping him. For once, she did not want to hear his excuses. She did not want to hear his lies. She did not want to hear anything at all. She looked down at the divorce papers on the table. Oddly enough, she felt calm. She thought about the lonely evenings, the birthdays she spent alone, and the countless anniversaries that ended in disappointment. She thought about the years she spent trying to convince Damian to treat her like a wife. She thought about the countless nights when she told herself that tomorrow would be different. And, finally, she realized that it was time to move on. “The settlement is generous,” Damian said quietly. Aurora nearly laughed. Money. Of course, it was about money. The billionaire’s favorite excuse. “I do not want your money,” she said. “You deserve compensation.” “Compensation?” Aurora looked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. “Is that what three years of my life are worth to you?” For the first time, Damian looked away. He was not accustomed to people standing up to him. He was not accustomed to people refusing to accept his words without question. But, as he looked at Aurora, he felt something strange in his chest. A feeling he could not quite understand. Aurora Blackwood was the only woman he had ever loved. She was the only woman who had ever challenged him. And, perhaps, that was why she was the only woman he had ever failed. “I am tired,” Aurora said softly. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen on the table. Damian watched her, his eyes wide in surprise. “Aurora.” She did not listen. Her hand hovered over the page, and she stared at the words for a long moment. Then, she signed her name at the bottom of the paper. Aurora Sinclair. Soon to be Aurora Sinclair again. The woman she used to be. The woman she had forgotten. The room was silent as Aurora looked up at Damian. He looked stunned. She expected him to argue. To fight. To try to convince her to change her mind. But, he did not. “There,” she said simply. A strange look crossed Damian’s face. Surprise. Disbelief. Perhaps, even something like disappointment. He looked up at her, searching her eyes. But, whatever he was looking for, he did not find. Aurora stood up, her chair sliding across the floor. “Will that be all, Mr. Blackwood?” She was not sure why, but the words slipped out before she could stop them. Damian’s jaw tightened. “Aurora.” She smiled at him, her expression calm. Almost serene. “Congratulations.” His brows furrowed in confusion. “For what?” Aurora looked at him one last time. The man she had loved for three years. The man who had broken her heart before breakfast. The man who would soon be her ex-husband. “You finally got what you wanted,” she said softly. Then, she turned around and walked away. Step by step. Her heart was still heavy, but something inside her had changed. She did not look back. She did not want to see the look on his face. She did not want him to see the tears that slid down her cheeks. Behind her, Damian stood up, watching her leave. For reasons he could not explain, a strange feeling of emptiness settled in his chest. As if something he loved had just walked away. But, by the time he realized it, Aurora was already gone. And, neither of them knew that, within a few months, the entire city would be talking about the woman who had just left the Blackwood household. The woman who had just divorced the richest and most powerful man in the city. The woman who was, in fact, one of the richest and most powerful heirs herself.