Chapter one: Divorced Before Dawn
842 Words
The clock on the grandfather wall chimed once.
11:58 p.m.
Amelia Carter stood alone in the dining room, carefully adjusting the last candle on the table. The steak had gone cold almost an hour ago, but she didn’t have the heart to replace it. Nathaniel had always hated wasted food.
A faint smile touched her lips as she looked at the small chocolate cake in the center of the table.
Happy Third Anniversary.
She had baked it herself.
Not because they couldn’t afford something better—Nathaniel Kingsley could buy every bakery in the city if he wanted to—but because, three years ago, he had once told her, “The best things are the ones made with love.”
She had never forgotten those words.
The sound of a car engine outside made her straighten immediately.
He’s home.
She smoothed the wrinkles from her cream-colored dress and hurried toward the front door, her heartbeat quickening with excitement.
The front door opened before she could reach it.
Nathaniel walked in without looking at her.
His tailored black suit was immaculate despite the late hour, and the cold night air followed him into the house. He loosened his tie with one hand while speaking quietly into his phone.
“Cancel tomorrow morning’s meeting. I’ll handle the Singapore contract in the afternoon.”
He ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket, and finally looked at Amelia.
For a brief second, their eyes met.
His expression didn’t change.
“You’re still awake.”
She laughed softly, trying to hide the disappointment that he had forgotten.
“I was waiting for you.”
He nodded once.
“I can see that.”
Silence settled between them.
The kind that had become painfully familiar over the past year.
“It’s almost midnight,” Amelia said, forcing brightness into her voice. “Come to the dining room. I made dinner.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“It won’t take long.”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
The warmth drained from her smile.
She glanced toward the dining room, where the candles still flickered patiently, as if they were waiting with her.
“You’ve been working so much lately,” she said gently. “I thought… maybe tonight could be different.”
Nathaniel’s gaze followed hers.
His eyes rested on the cake.
The candles.
The flowers.
Then he looked back at Amelia.
“What day is today?”
The question struck harder than any shout ever could.
She stared at him.
“You don’t remember.”
He frowned slightly, checking the date on his watch.
July 29.
His face remained unreadable.
“I’ve had a busy week.”
Amelia lowered her eyes before he could see them filling with tears.
“It’s our anniversary.”
Another silence.
Long enough for hope to begin dying.
“I see.”
That was all he said.
Not I’m sorry.
Not Happy anniversary.
Just…
“I see.”
Something inside Amelia cracked, though she kept her smile in place.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We can still have dinner.”
Nathaniel slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
For one impossible moment, Amelia’s heart fluttered.
Maybe he had bought her a gift after all.
Maybe he had planned a surprise.
Maybe…
He placed a large brown envelope on the dining table.
The sound echoed through the quiet room.
“I need you to read this.”
Amelia blinked.
“What is it?”
His voice remained calm.
“Open it.”
She looked from his face to the envelope.
Her fingers trembled as she untied the string.
The first page slid into her hands.
The bold heading at the top blurred before her eyes.
PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE
She stopped breathing.
“No…”
Her voice was barely audible.
She turned the page, hoping she had misunderstood.
She hadn’t.
Every line was another knife.
Every signature line was waiting for hers.
Slowly, she looked up at the man she had loved for six years.
“This…” she whispered. “This has to be a mistake.”
“It isn’t.”
“You want a divorce?”
“Yes.”
Her lips parted, but no words came.
Outside, thunder rolled across the night sky.
Amelia searched his face desperately, looking for anger, guilt, hesitation—anything that might tell her this was a cruel joke.
She found nothing.
“Why?” she asked.
Nathaniel looked at the clock.
11:59 p.m.
Then he met her eyes.
“You deserve the truth.”
He reached into his pocket again.
This time, he took out a photograph.
He placed it gently on top of the divorce papers.
Amelia looked down.
The world tilted beneath her feet.
The woman in the photograph was standing beside Nathaniel, smiling as though she belonged there.
His arm was around her waist.
On the back of the photograph, written in elegant handwriting, were six words.
I’m finally coming home. Wait for me.
The clock began to strike midnight.
- Writer
