The tip of my pen touched the final line of the divorce decree at exactly 10:03 a.m.
The clock on the wall clicked once—sharp, precise, final.
I had imagined this moment a hundred different ways. Tears. Anger. Maybe even regret.
But when it actually came… there was nothing.
No breakdown.
No dramatic words.
Just silence.
A deep, hollow silence—the kind that comes after a war you didn’t realize you were losing until it was already over.
My name is Natalie Hayes.
I’m thirty-two years old.
A mother of two.
And as of five minutes ago…
I was no longer Ethan Cole’s wife.
Before I could even set the pen down, his phone rang.
That ringtone.
The one I had come to recognize. The one he never used for work.
He didn’t step outside. Didn’t lower his voice.
“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “it’s done.”
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