Nathan's Pov
I trailed behind Rachel, much slower than she did while getting into the restaurant. It was not a hunger that twisted my insides into knots but sheer embarrassment. This was the first time I had set foot in Emily's place of work.
The loud chatter of the patrons, along with the occasional clanking of cutlery, made the discomfort worse. I did not belong here or rather, I did not want to belong here.
Rachel was scanning the room, then her lips pressed into a thin line. "So, this is where she works?" she asked, the edge in her tone unmistakable.
I nodded but did not answer. My eyes roamed until they landed on a lady in her late 40s who stood behind the counter. She exuded an aura of authority as she held her head up with confidence while directing the staff using quick hand gestures. There could be no misunderstanding. She was the boss.
We went to her Rachel leading. "Excuse me," she said, her voice piercing the ambient noise, "we're looking for Emily."
The woman's eyebrows raised only slightly as her eyes darted between us. "Who are you?" she inquired, polite but firm.
"I'm her husband," I said, tasting bitterness in my mouth because, for the first time, I felt them weigh in.
Her expression flickered for an instant with something perhaps surprise or disdain before she folded her arms across her chest. "Emily isn't here."
Rachel's eyebrows knitted together, "What do you mean she isn't in? She works here!"
"She quit just yesterday," was the simple reply from the woman, as though that were explanation enough.
My heart sank. "Quit?" I repeated, the word heavy on my tongue. "Why didn't she tell me?"
The boss shrugged. "She came in this evening, dropped something off, and said you would come looking for her." She reached under the counter and pulled out a small box, placing it on the counter between us. "She said I should give you this."
Rachel and I exchanged a few words, and I then reached for the box. With that, the boss wiped her hands on her apron. "I have got to get back to work," she said.
We walked out in silence from the restaurant. Each bit of the box felt heavier with every step forward. Once we got back into my car, Rachel put an end to the silence. "What is in there?" she asked, her voice trying to hide a veiled curiosity.
I remained silent for my palms were shaking as I opened the box. A stack of neatly folded papers sat on top. My stomach churned as I unfolded them, revealing the bold words Divorce Petition scrawled across the top. My breath caught.
Rachel leaned in closer. "What is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock innocence. When I didn't answer, she snatched the papers out of my hands. "Divorce?" she shrieked. Then, dropping her voice down to a conspiratorial whisper, "Did you two fight?"
I was ignoring her and my mind was racing. This can't be real. Emily wouldn't just leave. My gaze fell to the box once more, and there beneath the papers was a tiny tape recorder. I grabbed it, plugged it into the car's stereo, and pressed play.
Emily's voice filled the car: on its way to being steady but laced with bitterness I'd never heard before. "Nathan," she'd said. "By the time you hear this, I'm gone. I know about you and Rachel."
My fingers clenched tighter around the steering wheel, jaw tense. To my side, Rachel had gone stiff.
"I know about the lingerie, the one you let her flaunt just before you gift-wrapped it and handed it to me as if it meant something. Do you have a clue as to how humiliating that can get?" It was hard for me to swallow because my throat was dry.
"I had enough, more than what my heart can take. I had enough of all the lies betrayals the disrespect. I deserve better, and this time, I am choosing myself. Stay clear of me, Nathan. Be with Rachel or whoever you want to. I don't care anymore."
The recording cut off, bringing thick silence around. My chest was pumped with anger, just beneath the surface. I turned to Rachel, my vision a crimson haze. "What did you say to her?" I snarled.
Rachel's face widened, hands held up defensively. "I didn't Nathan, I didn't say anything!"
"You're lying!" I roared, hands shooting out before I could stop myself. My fingers wrapped around her neck, squeezing as fury consumed me. She gasped, clawing at my hands, her face reddening.
Somewhere at the back of my head, this voice screamed at me to stop. I freed her suddenly, and she collapsed against the seat, coughing and gasping for breath. I stared at her, heaving my chest, my hands shaking.
"What did you tell her?" I yelled again but didn't touch her this time.
"I didn't say anything!" she cried, her voice harsh.
Turning away, I ran a hand through my hair because my mind was in turmoil imagining what all Emily had done. The divorce meant everything—*everything*—was slipping between my fingers.
"You just don't understand," I spat between shaking breaths. "With Emily gone, I lose everything. The deal with my dad, even the 30 percent share is all in her name!"
Rachel just sat there, bloodshot eyes filled up with tears and spilling them over her cheeks, but I didn't give a damn. The world was falling apart, and the pieces slipped through my fingers.
Emily was out of reach. All I had were regrets.
