“Draft the divorce papers together with my resignation letter,” I said, my voice steady. “I want both on your desk tonight.”
Attorney Vega blinked twice. His pen slipped from his hand and landed on the legal pad between us.
“You’re serious about this, Therese?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” I met his eyes. “He’s going to find that hard to ignore.”
He leaned forward slowly, as if I might vanish again if he moved too fast. “Everyone knows you are dead."
“I survived, attorney.” My voice sharpened. “But he didn’t look for me. Not even once.”
Silence.
Vega glanced down at the paperwork I hadn’t touched yet. Blank templates. Just names waiting to be written.
“I can send you the drafts tonight,” he said carefully. “But are you ready to face the consequences?”
“Don't fret. I'm sure he won’t fight it,” I said. “After all, he knows I’m dead six-feet under.”
Yes, that’s what he thought…
__________________________________________________
It was raining hard by the time I reached the Sky villa. But my determination pushed me to go on. My finger flicked against the security passcode. It worked. He hadn’t changed it.
Good.
As I opened the doors, emptiness greeted me. The house was exactly as I remembered. Cold. Tidy. It smelled like a man who hated mess. I stood in the kitchen, running my fingers across the edge of the marble counter.
He used to come home late. Smiling like a man with everything, even as he walked right past me without noticing what I wore, how long I waited, or how much of me had disappeared piece by piece. Now he’d erased me completely.
Until tonight.
I set the two documents on the dining table. Crisp, untouched. His name; my name. The end of it all printed in black and white.
No anger. No begging. Just facts. This was my final act in a life he tried to bury. The door beeped. Follwed by footsteps. Familiar. Unhurried. Calculated.
And then I saw him—Dominic Sullivan. Charismatic. Dangerous. He froze on the spot when he saw me.
“Oh, God…Therese?!”
The sound of my name on his lips should’ve meant something. But it didn’t. Not anymore. I smiled—a chilling one that would radiate in his spine and said…
“Hello again, my dear husband.”
