The Long-Awaited Divorce

Brad Harrington's executive assistant was having another depressive episode.

He pulled out the divorce papers.

"It's just paperwork," he said. "Once she's stable, we'll remarry immediately."

I picked up the documents, skimmed a few pages, then looked up at him.

"I'm walking away with nothing?"

His face twisted with impatience.

"It's a fake divorce. Are you really going to nickel-and-dime this?"

I just smiled and said nothing. Quietly, I signed my name.

What he didn't know — I had been waiting for this day for a very long time.

###CONTENT

####CHAPTER-NAME:

After watching me sign the divorce papers, Brad Harrington let out a visible sigh of relief. A smile spread across his face—one I hadn't seen in a long time.

He promised, "Babe, don't worry. It's just a formality. I wouldn't even be doing this if she weren't my mom's distant relative."

I nodded and said, "I understand," with a small smile.

Then I turned and went to pack my things.

He froze. "What are you doing? No one said you have to move out. Besides, you don't even have anywhere to go."

I kept packing, then answered flatly, "If we're going to fake it, we might as well go all the way. Otherwise, what if Vanessa finds out and her condition gets worse?"

His expression stiffened for a second. Then he recovered. "Yeah… you're right."

He opened his mouth to say something else, but his phone rang—that special ringtone.

"Work stuff. Let me take this. I'll drive you later."

He walked out to the balcony. The moment he answered the call, his entire face softened.

It was the same look he used to give me when we were dating.

By the time I finished packing, he was still out there, all helpless and affectionate with whoever was on the phone.

I left quietly. I sent a text to my best friend.

Sitting on the curb waiting for her, I thought about Brad and me.

Four years of college romance. Six years of marriage.

I really thought I'd found the one.

For him, I left my stable government job and moved over a thousand miles from home.

My family and friends all thought I'd lost my mind.

He cried when I made that choice. He swore up and down that he'd never let me lose.

We worked hard for years. I poured in every penny I had—my savings, my wedding money—and we bought that house together.

Then he said his company restructured and his salary got cut. So I paid five thousand of our seven-thousand-dollar mortgage every month.

I told myself that's what marriage is—supporting each other. No need to keep score.

Until one night. I got the random idea to surprise him at work with a gift.

That's when I heard his friend joking around, "Damn, Brad, you've got it all! Promotion, raise, that huge bonus from the last project—you must be pulling in six figures now. Wife at home, mistress on the side. Living the dream, man."

I