Chapter Four — The Divorce Papers
1266 Words
Amelia didn't sleep.
By six in the morning, the question had become unbearable.
Who was Damian's first fiancée?
She sat on the edge of the hotel bed, staring at the message from Victor.
She had read it at least fifty times.
Then she called Damian.
He answered on the first ring.
"Amelia."
"Who was she?"
Silence.
"Please."
"Who told you?"
"Stop asking me that."
"Amelia, you don't understand."
"Then make me understand."
He exhaled.
"There was someone before you."
Her stomach tightened.
"Your first fiancée."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because she died."
Amelia froze.
"What?"
"Her name was Elena."
The room suddenly felt too small.
"What happened to her?"
"I don't want to discuss this over the phone."
"You've had six years to discuss it."
His voice broke.
"I know."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
Amelia's eyes filled with tears.
"Is that why you married me?"
"No."
"Did you love her?"
"Yes."
The answer hurt.
Even though Elena was dead.
Even though Damian's betrayal had already shattered everything.
It hurt.
"But I loved you too," he added.
Amelia closed her eyes.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
"I never wanted you dragged into this."
"You married me. You already dragged me into it."
He had no answer.
Amelia looked at the divorce papers on the table.
"Come to my lawyer's office at noon."
"Why?"
"We're signing."
His breathing changed.
"Amelia—"
"I've made my decision."
She ended the call.
---
At eleven forty-five, Amelia sat across from her lawyer.
"Are you certain?"
She looked at the document.
"Yes."
"You understand that once this is signed and processed, reversing the decision won't be simple."
Amelia gave a small smile.
"I don't want to reverse it."
The door opened.
Damian walked in.
Their eyes met.
For a second, Amelia remembered the man she'd married.
The man who had waited outside her university building with flowers.
The man who had proposed during a thunderstorm because he'd forgotten to check the weather.
The man who had promised her—
"Whatever happens, I'll choose you."
She looked away.
That man felt like a stranger now.
Damian sat beside his lawyer.
The room became silent.
Her lawyer pushed the documents forward.
"Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, these are the final divorce agreements."
Damian stared at the papers.
"Do you need more time?"
"No," Amelia said.
Damian looked at her.
"Neither do I."
Her heart clenched.
He picked up the pen.
His hand paused.
Amelia watched.
"Are you sure?" he asked quietly.
"Yes."
He signed.
She signed.
Just like that.
Six years ended in less than five minutes.
Amelia removed her wedding ring.
She placed it beside the documents.
Damian stared at it.
"Keep it," he said.
"No."
"Please."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want to remember this as the day I lost everything."
Amelia's voice softened.
"You should remember it."
His eyes lifted.
"Why?"
"So you never do this to someone again."
She stood.
Damian remained seated.
"Amelia."
She stopped.
"I loved you."
She swallowed.
"I know."
"I still do."
She looked at him.
"I wish you had remembered that before you kissed her."
Then she walked out.
---
Outside the building, Amelia finally breathed.
It was strange.
She had expected relief.
Instead, there was emptiness.
She stared at her bare finger.
No ring.
No husband.
No marriage.
She should have felt free.
Instead, she felt like she'd buried six years of her life.
Her phone rang.
Victor.
She almost ignored it.
Then she answered.
"What?"
"Did you sign?"
"How do you know?"
"I know everything that's happening around Damian."
Amelia's expression hardened.
"You've been watching him."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Elena's death wasn't an accident."
Amelia stopped walking.
"What did you say?"
Victor lowered his voice.
"Someone killed her."
The world seemed to tilt.
"You told me she died."
"I never said how."
Amelia gripped her phone.
"Who killed her?"
"We don't know."
"Then why are you telling me?"
"Because the night Elena died, Damian was with her."
Amelia's blood ran cold.
"No."
"He was the last person seen with her."
"You're lying."
"I wish I were."
Amelia's heart hammered.
"Why would Damian kill his own fiancée?"
"I don't think he did."
"Then who did?"
"That's what I've been trying to find out."
Amelia looked back at the building.
Damian was still inside.
She almost turned around.
Almost.
Then Victor said—
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Elena was pregnant."
Amelia couldn't speak.
"With Damian's child."
The call ended.
---
Damian walked out of the lawyer's office twenty minutes later.
He found Amelia standing across the street.
His face changed.
"Why are you still here?"
She stared at him.
"Was Elena pregnant?"
He stopped.
Every trace of color disappeared from his face.
"Who told you?"
"Answer me."
"Amelia—"
"Was she?"
He looked away.
That was enough.
Amelia's chest tightened.
"Oh my God."
"I didn't know."
"You didn't know?"
"She never told me."
"Then how did you find out?"
Damian's eyes closed.
"After she died."
Amelia stared at him.
"You loved her."
"Yes."
"And she was carrying your child."
"I didn't know."
"Did you kill her?"
His eyes snapped open.
"What?"
"Did you?"
"Never."
His voice cracked with anger.
"I loved Elena."
"Then why does everyone keep warning me about you?"
"I don't know."
"Why did Victor say you were the last person seen with her?"
"Because I was."
"Why?"
Damian stepped closer.
"Because she called me that night."
"For what?"
"She said she had something important to tell me."
"What?"
"I never found out."
"Why?"
"Because when I got there, she was already gone."
Amelia stared at him.
"How convenient."
He flinched.
"I know how it sounds."
"It sounds like you lied to me."
"I was trying to protect you."
"From the truth?"
"Yes."
"You don't get to decide what I can handle."
"I was afraid you'd leave."
Amelia laughed bitterly.
"And look where we are."
He had no response.
She turned away.
"Amelia."
She stopped.
"Whatever happened to Elena..."
She looked over her shoulder.
"...don't involve me."
Then she walked away.
---
That night, Amelia packed.
She couldn't stay in the city.
Not after everything she'd learned.
Not after discovering that her marriage was built on secrets.
She booked a flight for the next morning.
She was leaving.
Starting over.
Somewhere Damian couldn't find her.
Somewhere nobody knew her as Mrs. Blackwood.
She closed her suitcase.
Her phone rang.
An unknown number.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A woman's trembling voice whispered—
"Are you Amelia Hart?"
"Yes."
"You need to leave the city."
Amelia froze.
"Who is this?"
"I knew Elena."
Her pulse quickened.
"What do you know?"
"I know what happened the night she died."
Amelia sat down.
"Tell me."
The woman breathed shakily.
"I can't. They're listening."
"Who's listening?"
A pause.
Then—
"Damian's father."
The line went dead.
Amelia stared at the phone.
Damian's father had died two years earlier.
She knew that.
Everyone did.
Her mind raced.
Then her phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown: You should have stayed out of the Blackwood family.
Amelia's hands
began to tremble.
Another message arrived.
Unknown: Now you've made yourself a target.
She looked toward the hotel door.
For the first time, she wondered whether she was actually alone.
Then she heard three slow knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Amelia didn't move.
Another knock.
She stepped toward the door.
"Who's there?"
No answer.
She looked through the peephole.
The hallway was empty.
Her phone buzzed again.
One final message appeared.
Unknown: Don't open the door.
Amelia's blood ran cold.
Because at that exact moment—
the handle began to turn.
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