The next day.
The parking lot outside the courthouse.
William sat in the Maybach, his left hand tapping lightly on the steering wheel.
"William, you and Daniela have been married a year now. It's high time you two started thinking about a family." An elderly woman's voice, full of affectionate nagging, came through the car's speakers.
William's expression remained patient, though a flicker of helplessness hid beneath it.
He answered with gentle deference, "We're still young, Grandma. There's no rush. The most important thing is for you to focus on your health, and Grandpa, he..."
"Of course I'm worried!" the old woman cut him off, her voice sharp with anxiety. "Your grandfather's doing much better, but we're both old. We could go at any time."
"Grandma..." William sighed, a silent, weary exhale.
The old woman's voice turned stern. "And don't you try to change the subject. I've heard the rumors, and you had better not be mistreating Daniela."
William fell silent for three seconds.
The silence stretched until the old woman pressed, "Do you hear me?"
He rubbed his brow, the very picture of a man forced to comply. "Fine," he said finally, "I understand."
After a few more pleasantries, William ended the call.
His fingers resumed their unconscious, steady tapping on the steering wheel as he looked towards the nearby courthouse.
His lips pressed into a thin line.
He tapped open the message list on his phone.
His finger glided over a contact saved as "My Love"—a florist's profile picture—scrolling past it, down to a chat with Daniela.
The last message was his, sent earlier that morning: a matter-of-fact note with the time and place to meet for their divorce procedure.
She hadn't shown up.
Frowning slightly, he sent her a new message. "Where are you?"
The next moment, a knock on the car window revealed Daniela's slightly pale face looking in at him.
Daniela opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.
She glanced at him.
He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday—an outfit she had picked out for him.
From his cologne and ties to his tailored shirts and suits, she had managed every detail of his life for years.
"You're late," he said.
Daniela averted her gaze.
"I'm on time," she replied.
He noticed she wasn't early. She used to wait for ages just to be early for him.
His tapping fingers paused for a split second, and he looked at her with a slight frown.
She was paler than usual. She probably hadn't slept last night after he brought up the divorce.
But that wasn't important.
"My grandmother just called." William looked away. "We won't tell the elders about the divorce. They're too old—it would be too much for them."
Daniela didn't agree right away. She only asked, "What did she say?"
"She was pushing us to have a child." William's eyes narrowed, a flash of impatience crossing his face.
A long, heavy silence filled the car.
After what felt like an eternity, Daniela let out a soft, bitter scoff.
William's left hand curled into a fist. He stared out the car window and said nothing.
He had, of course, wondered what their child might look like.
During their most intimate moments, he had even traced his fingers over her flat stomach, murmuring against her ear, "Daniela, when are you going to give me a child?"
But...
she hadn't gotten pregnant.
They'd remarry in six months. It wouldn't be too late by then.
Valerie only had six months left.
Outside the car, people came and went. After a few more seconds, Daniela spoke.
"Last chance, William. Are you sure you want this divorce?"
His head snapped towards her, fury flashing in his eyes. "Getting cold feet?" He was genuinely angry.
Valerie was at home, waiting for him.
Having received his answer, Daniela said nothing more. She just pulled out a document and handed it to him.
William took it, frowning deeply. It was a property settlement agreement.
"If we're getting a divorce, let's be clear about the assets," she said, her voice utterly cold and businesslike. "I'm only taking my fair share of what belongs to the Harrison family. During the waiting period, any income earned by either party belongs to that individual."
As she spoke, Daniela pulled out a pen and set it on top of the papers.
"Sign it if you have no objections."
The more William read, the deeper his frown became.
The contract was clear and concise. She truly wasn't taking any more than her due. Her signature, "Daniela," was already on the line.
He didn't get it.
What was the point of this contract for a fake divorce?
Valerie only had six months left.
He would see her through her final days, and then everything would go back to normal, with him and Daniela together again.
In his mind, Daniela couldn't live without him.
She had no self-esteem.
He had once, out of sheer boredom, deliberately pushed her to do things that went against her nature.
She never refused.
She would even present the results to him with both hands, her face alight with a beaming smile, and say, "Look, William, I did it! Isn't it great?"
She had been an exceptionally compliant partner, a fact he'd confirmed countless times over seven years.
If it weren't for Valerie, his marriage would have likely drifted on without a ripple for the rest of his life.
But...
An image of Valerie's face flashed through his mind—tragically beautiful and stubbornly defiant as she coughed up blood. The memory hit him so hard he could barely breathe.
William glanced at the window.
Reflected in the glass was Daniela's face, completely devoid of emotion.
Was this some kind of threat?
She hated Valerie and had even used the forged chat records to frame her.
A humorless, silent laugh escaped him.
He snatched up the pen.
William signed his name with a flourish.
No one could threaten him.
Two copies.
Daniela took hers.
Then, they got out of the car.
Inside, they took a number, submitted the paperwork, and filled out the divorce petitions.
They each left with a filed copy. The final decree would arrive after the state's mandatory waiting period and a judge's review.
When the process was over, they walked out of the courthouse together.
The sun was now high in the sky, its rays warming Daniela's skin.
William watched the crowd streaming past.
It was easy to tell the newlyweds from the divorcees.
A couple walked out hand-in-hand, the woman's face radiant with happiness.
For a hazy moment, William remembered that a year ago, when they'd come to register their marriage, Daniela had worn that exact same smile.
William swept his gaze over Daniela.
Her face was still a blank mask.
"During this period," he said, his tone assuming her compliance, "I'll still put money in your account. And don't tell my grandparents about this."
He didn't wait for an answer. He simply turned and walked away.
She watched his car turn the corner and disappear from sight.
Then, the car she'd called arrived.
The two vehicles drove off in opposite directions.
One headed for Valerie Floral Studio.
The other drove toward Cresthaven Grand Medical Center.
When William pushed open the door to the florist studio, Valerie looked up and greeted him with a bright, welcoming smile.
He pulled the divorce filing from his pocket. "It's done," he said. "She didn't cause any trouble."
At the same time, Daniela, clutching her appointment slip, walked into the OB-GYN department.
She sat down across from a doctor.
The doctor pulled the privacy curtain shut with a soft swish.
"Dani, are you sure about this?" asked Dr. Willa Brown, her best friend, her voice laced with worry. "You wanted this so badly. You came to me for months to get your body ready..."
Daniela placed her own copy of the divorce filing on the edge of the desk.
"Yeah." Her voice was eerily calm. "Just do it. I don't want it anymore."
