First message
“I’m filing for divorce,” Aaron said without warning, throwing clothes from the dresser into a bag on the floor.
“Wait,” you said. “Want to tell me why?”
You stepped closer, forcing him to look at you. His jaw tightened before he looked away. He pulled his keys from his pocket and set them on your vanity.
“My lawyer will contact you.”
Then he left.
Only after the door closed did you let yourself break down. Two years of marriage, and he just walked out.
⸻
That evening, when you had no tears left, you showed up at your sister’s place unannounced.
“Mia, he left me,” you said from the doorway, stepping inside. “He just left.”
Mia tensed.
“This isn’t really a good time, sweetheart. I’m expecting someone,” she said quietly, hugging you.
Hypocrite.
You stared at her.
“Then cancel. What the hell, Mia?”
The doorbell rang. Mia flinched, her face going pale.
Before she could stop you, you opened the door.
Your husband was standing there.
Aaron. In a suit. Holding a fucking bouquet of flowers.
Not for you.