That same day, we contacted one of the top divorce lawyers in New York. He was efficient. By afternoon, the divorce papers were drawn up and dispatched to Julian and Sebastian.
After the confirmation email arrived, Scarlett and I looked at each other. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, we both exhaled in unison.
But a week passed with no response. Not a word from either of them.
Finally, I couldn't stand the silence any longer. I called Julian.
"Julian, did you receive the divorce papers? When are you going to sign them?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but a tremor gave me away.
His voice crackled through the phone, cold and furious. "Avery, do you really have to push it this far? Chloe needs to rest. Can't you be quiet for once? Do you get some kind of sick thrill out of all this drama?"
I heard Chloe's gentle voice beside him. "Julian, don't be mad at Avery. She's probably just in a bad mood."
"You know how emotional pregnant women can get. Maybe this is just her way of asking for attention. You should try to be more understanding."
She was playing the mediator, but every word was a carefully placed barb, designed to paint me as a hysterical woman throwing a tantrum for attention.
Hearing her words, something inside me snapped.
"Don't you dare talk to me about pregnancy!" I screamed, my voice breaking on a fresh wave of tears. "Julian, our baby is gone! Does that mean nothing to you?"
A beat of silence, then Julian's voice returned, colder than a tomb.
"Avery, cut the act. I'm sick of you using this pregnancy to get my attention. Chloe needs me right now. I don't have time for your lies."
His words were like shards of glass in my heart.
Then Chloe spoke again, her tone soft and saccharine. "Julian, maybe you should go to Avery. I'll be fine. She sounds so unstable. You're her husband. You should be with her."
Her words were meant to sound kind, but each syllable was a slap in the face.
Just before the line went dead, I heard Julian's dismissive voice: "She's just spoiled. Ignore her."
Then, he hung up.
I sat there, tears streaming down my face.
Scarlett took my hand. "Avery, you're still recovering. Please don't let this destroy you. I'm with you. When you're discharged, we'll leave them for good. Okay?"
I nodded through my tears. "Okay."
Those two weeks in the hospital were the most agonizing of our lives.
Julian and Sebastian never visited. They never called. It was as if we had simply ceased to exist.
Every day, we watched other patients surrounded by their families. But Scarlett and I had only each other.
At night, in the quiet of the ward, I could hear Scarlett's muffled sobs from the next bed. She tried to hide them, but I knew the depth of her pain.
I was in pain, too. Letting go of the man I had once loved with all my heart felt like tearing a part of myself away.
Finally, the day of our discharge arrived.
But as we were about to leave, a scene down the hall made me freeze.
Through the window of the maternity ward, I saw Sebastian carefully handing a cup of tea to Chloe.
Lying on the hospital bed, Chloe clung to Julian's arm. Her voice was soft, trembling. "Julian, I'm so scared. I hear giving birth hurts so much."
Julian gently patted her back and leaned in. "Don't worry, Chloe. I'll be here the whole time."
"I've arranged for the best obstetrician. Everything will go smoothly."
Sebastian nodded beside them. "Don't be afraid. We're not going anywhere. We'll be right here with you."
The three of them formed a perfect, harmonious tableau.
Meanwhile, Scarlett and I stood like forgotten shadows at the other end of the hall.
We held onto each other for support, watching them from a distance, feeling like outsiders in a story that was never ours.
My chest tightened, and the pain inside me resurfaced, sharp and raw.
In that moment, we finally understood. To Julian and Sebastian, Chloe was irreplaceable. We were just a diversion, a way to pass the lonely hours.
Now that they had found the woman they truly wanted to protect, there was no place left for us.
Scarlett squeezed my hand. Her own was cold and trembling.
