He had never once made breakfast for me.
I looked at the table full of carbs and milk, then turned and walked into the bathroom.
I had a sensitive stomach and was lactose intolerant. I never touched dairy or anything that could trigger a flare-up.
The day they left the country, Morris's blog was updated.
One last indulgence. Let me love you one more time.
Staring at that single line, I felt so sick I couldn't speak. I blocked the account outright.
The lawyer Gordon found was thorough. Everything from the divorce agreement to the asset division clauses was laid out with precision, saving me a great deal of effort.
I sent the electronic version of the divorce agreement to Morris. He never replied.
Over the next three days, I erased every trace of myself from the apartment.
Clothes and makeup I still needed went into boxes. Everything else, I had my assistant donate.
I tore up every photo of Morris and me together. The matching couple's items I'd once begged him to buy were thrown straight in the trash.
When I finished packing, everything I owned fit into a single suitcase.
A memory flickered through my mind: the day we first met, how flustered he'd looked when I confessed to him so bluntly, his cheeks flushing red, his gaze darting everywhere but my face, until he finally stammered out a yes.
"Y-Yeah."
"I mean... Regina, let's be together."
I laughed out loud before I could stop myself. But the boy who'd been clueless about romance yet so sincere and attentive was gone. He was truly gone.
It wasn't that he'd changed. It was that every image I'd ever drawn of him in my heart collapsed the instant I saw him love someone else.
Enough. A clean break was the best I could hope for.
I let out a breath and called Morris.
The phone rang twice before someone picked up.
"Morris, check the file I sent you on—"
"Regina, Morris is busy right now. I'll have him call you back."
Cassandra's voice had lost its usual softness. Now it carried an unmistakable edge of provocation.
I smiled and said, evenly:
"Sure. Then make sure you tell him to check the file I sent."
"It's urgent. The sooner, the better."
"Regina, don't you get it? The person in his heart is me. Not you."
Her voice dripped with pity:
"It must've been so hard for you, spending three years with a man who never loved you."
"Still better than being the woman who wrecks someone else's marriage."
I fired back without missing a beat.
"Morris doesn't know the real reason you came back to the country, but do you think I don't?"
"I have no interest in getting between the two of you. But don't push me again."
I hung up clean and called a car to the airport.
Right before boarding, a message from Morris came through.
Regina Swanson, what did you say to Cassandra?
Fine, I lied to you. Cassandra and I are together. But if you're angry, take it out on me. What does any of this have to do with her?
When we get back, you apologize to Cassandra, and we'll put this behind us.
The accusatory tone, the sheer audacity of his self-righteousness, made me laugh. Every word confirmed how far past reason he'd gone.
What standing did he have to champion Cassandra? What gave him the nerve to interrogate me?
Morris, I want a divorce.
The agreement's in the file I sent. Sign it and send the digital copy back.
I powered off my phone, grabbed my suitcase, and walked away without looking back.
From here on out, our paths would never cross again.
There would be no more Morris Matthews in my world.
