Signed and Unforgotten
797 Words
I stumbled into my apartment, my body moving on autopilot, but my heart felt like dead weight in my chest. The humiliation from earlier still clung to me like a suffocating shadow, refusing to let go.
As I collapsed onto the couch, my eyes drifted to the television, its glow casting eerie shadows across the dimly lit room. Just as I reached for the remote to turn it off, my fingers froze.
There he was.
Damian. My husband.
Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, his hand firmly intertwined with hers—his mistress. They moved effortlessly across the red carpet, the perfect couple, smiling for the flashing cameras. The journalists swarmed them like bees to honey, their voices eager, hungry for headlines.
"Mr. Callahan, there are rumors circulating about a certain woman claiming to be your wife. The internet is flooded with pictures of her. Who is she?"
The question sent a chill through my spine. My hands trembled as I turned up the volume, my heartbeat roaring in my ears.
Damian’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching with irritation before he forced a dismissive smirk.
"A man of my caliber would never stoop so low as to eat trash."
My breath hitched.
The words cut through me like a thousand blades. The journalists laughed. The cameras flashed. The world swallowed the lie without question.
My pictures were everywhere—my scarred face, my broken form, plastered across every social media platform. People mocked me, calling me names, comparing me to a beast. The internet was on fire, sparking reactions from every corner.
My phone buzzed relentlessly.
"Did you see what's happening online?"
"Is this true?"
"How could he say that about you?"
Family. Friends. Strangers. Their pity, their concern—it all felt like daggers to my already shattered soul.
With a shaking breath, I switched off my phone and threw it across the room. The silence was deafening. My tears came in waves, choking me as I curled up in bed, sobbing into my pillow. Sleep became my only escape.
But it didn’t last long.
The sound of my front door opening jolted me awake. My heart pounded as heavy footsteps echoed through the apartment.
Damian.
He stood at the doorway, a cruel smirk playing on his lips, his tailored suit still pristine from the event. In his hand, he held a crisp stack of papers.
He tossed them onto the bed. The white sheets swallowed the inked words, but I knew exactly what they were before I even picked them up.
A divorce agreement.
He finally spoke, his voice void of emotion.
"Seems like you’ve been keeping this for a while. Let's make it official. I want a divorce."
And just like that, the last shred of hope inside me died.
Those were the last words I heard before everything faded into darkness.
When I opened my eyes, the world around me was blurry, the bright hospital lights stinging my vision. A sharp pain pulsed through my head, and the dull ache in my arm told me there were multiple drips and injections being administered into my body.
Then it hit me.
"I want a divorce."
The words came crashing back, suffocating me like a tidal wave. My chest tightened, and before I could stop myself, hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I turned my head frantically, searching, hoping—praying he was there.
But he wasn’t.
Instead, my mother sat beside me, her eyes red and swollen, her face etched with both pity and anger. She looked like someone who had cried until there were no more tears left.
"Mom…" My voice came out in a broken whisper, my throat dry and scratchy.
She reached for my hand, squeezing it gently, but there was an unmistakable disappointment in her gaze. The kind that said, I warned you.
“Where… where is Damian?” My voice trembled as I forced the question out, even though deep down, I already knew the answer.
Her lips pressed into a thin line before she sighed. “He called us to come and take you from his house after you fainted. That was it.”
I froze.
That was it?
He didn’t stay. He didn’t check on me. He didn’t care.
He had left me—his wife, the woman who gave up everything for him—alone in a hospital bed while he went back to her.
A fresh wave of pain tore through my chest. My breath hitched as the realization set in.
He was truly heartless.
A sob escaped my lips, raw and filled with agony. My mother stroked my hair, but I barely felt it. I was drowning, suffocating in my own grief.
Damian had thrown me away like garbage.
And I had nothing left.
- Writer
