He froze, his jaw trembling as my words hit the exact center of his pride.
“And now,” I continued, “you want me back not because you love me, but because the world is judging you, and your illusion of perfection is broken. I was your anchor when you were drowning, Ethan. But I refuse to be your life raft now that you’re bored of the ocean.”
The Final Pen Stroke
“Cole v. Cole,” the bailiff called out, his voice echoing through the corridor.
“It’s time,” I said.
Ethan stood paralyzed for a moment before following me into the judge’s chambers. Chloe tried to enter, but the clerk stopped her at the door.
Inside, the judge reviewed the financial settlement. Sixty percent of the cash reserves, the Blue Ridge property, and a full release of all marital obligations.
“Mr. Cole, Mrs. Cole,” the judge began, looking over her glasses. “You have completed the thirty-day waiting period. The division of assets has been agreed upon by both legal counsels. Have either of you changed your minds regarding the dissolution of this marriage?”
“No, Your Honor,” I said immediately.
The judge turned her eyes to Ethan. “Mr. Cole?”
Ethan looked at me. His eyes were red, silently begging me to glance back, to give him a sign, a hint of hesitation, anything he could grab onto.
I kept my gaze fixed on the mahogany desk ahead.
“Mr. Cole?” the judge repeated, a slight edge in her tone.
Ethan swallowed hard, his throat moving heavily. “…No, Your Honor.”
“Very well.”
