No More Waiting for His Love

The sunlight was just right. Better still, it meant I wouldn't disturb them.

I still remembered two months ago.

Lewis had been shopping with Anne, while I was picking out a birthday gift for him.

The same mall. An accidental encounter.

I stood there, flustered and at a loss. Anne was poised and graceful. Only Lewis flew into a rage.

In front of everyone, he scolded me for stalking him, for interrupting his discussion with a client.

In the end, I crouched outside the mall entrance and cried for an entire day.

So this time, I chose to keep my distance.

The divorce agreement came together quickly. Rosie had another urgent matter, so she reminded me of the remaining key clauses and then left.

I sat in the sunlight, sipping coffee, humming softly as I revised the last few terms.

"Janice, should I drive you back to the firm?"

Lewis stood by the table with a faint smile on his face. Anne was nowhere in sight.

I glanced at him and pursed my lips. "You and your young girlfriend really know how to have fun."

At the collar of his suit jacket was a conspicuous lipstick mark.

When he noticed it, Lewis panicked and hurriedly rubbed at it with his hand.

"She helped me hold it for a bit when we were paying. I probably didn't notice…"

He answered cautiously. I didn't really care.

"Should I drive you back to the firm?" he asked again.

I looked at my laptop screen, where the divorce agreement was nearly finished.

I nodded, then said apologetically, "Sorry, it'll be done in a moment. Wait for me for a bit."

He seemed pleased. He craned his neck and glanced at the screen.

"What's that?"

…

I kept typing as I replied lazily, "A divorce agreement. I'm revising it."

The scene felt unfamiliar.

In the past, whenever Lewis offered to drive me somewhere, I never dared make him wait—no matter how urgent my own business was.

Otherwise, anger would immediately cloud his face.

Asking him to wait for me—this was a first.

When Lewis heard the words divorce agreement, his expression shifted.

I hesitated over a clause and asked him, "How should a clause be written to ensure that after divorce, neither party can harass the other?"

"Huh? What?"

Lewis—a nationally renowned lawyer—actually stumbled on a professional question.

He dodged it instead. "You're a criminal defense lawyer. Why are you so interested in divorce agreements?"

I was about to answer directly when his phone rang.

It was Anne.

While he took the call, I didn't waste time. I saved the revised agreement and went inside to borrow the shop's printer.

Watching the divorce agreement come out of the printer, I felt a quiet happiness.

Lewis was still outside, pacing impatiently while talking on the phone. From time to time, he glanced inside through the glass window.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," I said apologetically.

It truly had taken a while. The printer wasn't very cooperative, and it took more than ten minutes.

This was probably the longest Lewis had waited for someone in recent years.

He hurriedly hung up the phone and said, "It's fine, it's fine."

I was quite satisfied with this slightly polite, slightly distant exchange.

It was how things should stay after the divorce.

No—ideally, we would never see each other again.

I'd resign then, move to another firm. Better yet, change cities altogether.

The thought made me smile.

Seeing my bright smile, Lewis probably assumed my mood had improved. He smiled back, a little nervously.

I placed the divorce agreement on the table and said softly, "No need to wait for another day. Why don't we sign this agreement today? Don't worry, the property clauses are very favorable to you."

The smile on Lewis's face vanished in an instant.