Chapter 16 #3
I leaned back, my gaze cold. “Your father included it to flaunt his power. To remind me that he could pull the rug out from under me whenever he wanted, if I displeased him. I signed it because, at the time, I had no other choice.”
A slow smile touched my mouth again.
“Did you even read it? Or were you so arrogant about your supposed victory that you forgot the one clause you and your father never dreamed about anyone having the backbone to use against you?”
I let the silence stretch.
“That’s the thing about a two-way street, Cassandra. The power to walk away goes both ways.” I held her gaze. “And I’m invoking that power now.”
I straightened up, the decision absolute.
“So, thank you. Thank you for delivering my escape hatch. Now get out.”
Cassandra’s composure shattered. “You’re making a mistake! You’ll regret this, Cassian.”
I had a long list of regrets in my life.
This would not be one of them.
I glanced at Rohan. “Call security.”
She let out a bitter, disbelieving scoff, her eyes burning into me. “Deny it all you want. You can’t change the truth of what we have.”
Rohan opened the door and cleared his throat. She shot him a venomous glare, and with one last, searing look at me, she finally swept out of the room.
Liam dragged a hand down his face, exhaling hard.
“Jesus Christ. What the fuck was that?” He looked at me, his expression stripped of its usual cheer.
“Cassian… I didn’t know. I knew she had a crush on you when we were kids—hell, everyone did.
But it was a kid’s crush. I thought she’d outgrown it.
I never would have let her through the door if I’d known it was… this.”
I just slumped into my chair, the fight draining out of me as my head fell into my hands.
It was over.
My mother was dealt with.
Cassandra was gone.
But my house was still empty. The divorce papers were still signed.
My wife was still gone.
And for the first time since she walked out, I had no enemy to fight, no problem to solve. I had cleared the battlefield, and all that was left was the devastating, quiet truth:
I had no idea what to do.
Liam’s voice was soft with concern. “Hey… you okay?”
I shook my head, my gaze fixed on the floor.
“Want to talk about it?” he asked, in a tone that already knew the answer.
No.
But I looked up, my vision blurring, and heard myself say, “Yes.”
So Liam and Rohan stayed.
They pulled up chairs, and I told them everything. Every failure. Every moment I’d overlooked. Every selfish choice I’d made. I laid the entire wreckage of my marriage at their feet, piece by painful piece.
They didn’t interrupt.
They didn’t offer solutions or try to tell me what I should have done differently. They didn’t try to fix me.
They just listened.
And in that moment, their silent, unwavering presence was a greater gift than any advice could ever be.
For two months, time had moved with a cruel, dragging weight. Each day was a heavy, conscious burden, relentlessly reminding me of what I had lost.
Every morning, I woke up in a cold, empty bed, the silence a constant scream that my wife was gone. And every morning, the same agonizing question would slice through me: Was this how she felt?
Did she lie awake night after night, her hope slowly withering, wishing that this would be the night I finally came home to her?
Did the memories of our life here haunt her the way they now haunt me, each one a sharp reminder of what I threw away?
I couldn’t even remember the last time I had warmed her side of the bed.
Had she been sleeping in the cold?
While I had been consumed by work, my wife had been here. At home. Alone. Waiting. Maybe just wishing for a glimpse of me.
Just as I was doing now.
And now the day I had been dreading was here. The day the court would formally dissolve our marriage, and she would no longer be my wife.
I hated the sun for having the audacity to rise. I hated the night for ending and forcing me to live through this. I hated the court for not collapsing into the earth. I hated the flawless operation of my car for delivering me to my own execution.
I hated everything in the world that continued to function normally while my life ended.
Everything except the sight before me.
Alessia sat beside me, her attention captured by the screen in her hand, while I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.
For two months, I had ached for even a glimpse of her.
I must have picked up my phone a thousand times, my thumb hovering over her number, always stopping just short of calling.
I didn’t even need her to answer.
I would have been content just to hear her on the outgoing voicemail message. Just that small, recorded piece of her—words meant for anyone but me—would have been enough.
A temporary salvation.
But I could never press ‘call.’
She didn’t want me anymore.
The one thing I could still give her was my absence. I would not become another burden, another demand on her peace.
And yet, here I was, stealing every second I could get in her presence, hoarding the sight of her like a man starved.
“If I fainted, do you think it would delay the proceedings?” The words were out before I could stop them.
She didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’ll probably just throw cold water on you. But,” she shrugged, “feel free to try.”
For the first time since she’d left, a real smile touched my lips.
God, I missed her. With a force that emptied my lungs.
My eyes dropped to her screen. “You’re bored?”
Her fingers stilled. “How do you know that?”
“You only play Angry Birds when you’re bored.”
For the first time since she’d walked into the room, her eyes lifted to meet mine. They were wary, skeptical. “How do you know that?”
My chest ached, a dull, permanent throb. “Our marriage wasn’t all bad, Alessia,” I said softly. “I do know you.”
Her gaze held mine for a moment longer, a silent, unreadable exchange, and then the lawyers entered. The process of ending our marriage began.
There were no new papers to sign. We had already dismantled our life with signatures two months prior. This was just the ritual: confirming our identities, acknowledging the petition, answering the judge’s procedural questions in sterile, agreed-upon terms.
My hand kept finding its way to my pinky, my thumb circling her ring in a nervous, ceaseless rhythm.
A habit I couldn’t break. A tether to a sinking ship.
With every formal word from the judge, my grip tightened around the cool metal, as though I could physically hold on to what was being legally severed.
And then, it was over.
A few words from a stranger in a robe, and our marriage was completely over.
Before the reality of it could fully settle in, I was standing outside the courthouse, watching Alessia walk toward her car, where Naija waited.
“It was great knowing you,” I called, stepping forward.
I extended my hand.
A handshake. A painfully formal ending to something that had once been my entire life.
She stopped and turned.
Her eyes dropped to my outstretched hand. For a second, suspicion flickered across her face.
Then she stepped forward and slipped her hand into mine.
Her palm was warm.
Mine was freezing.
Her gaze lifted to meet mine.
“It was,” she said, searching for the right word. “…something, knowing you, Cassian.”
My eyes crinkled with a sad smile. “At least you’re not doing the Barbie: A Fairy Secret thing anymore.”
She froze.
Her hand went slack in mine.
“What?”
I shrugged. “I know that’s what you were doing. Calling me ‘bro’ and everything—anything but my name. It was a little different from the movie, I’ll give you that. Took me a while to catch on.”
Her eyes widened.
“How do you know about that movie?”
I frowned for a second.
Then I remembered.
The memory was mine alone now.
“Before my grandmother passed away, her health was declining. I stayed with her as much as I could. For a long time, she was too tired to do much of anything…” I smiled softly. “Until we stumbled upon the Barbie movies.”
I glanced down at our joined hands.
“We started with Fairytopia,” I continued. “And she became completely captivated. It was like they brought a light back into her eyes. We ended up watching every one we could find.”
My smile faded into something quieter.
“She was the kindest soul, and I didn’t get nearly enough time with her. But in her final days, she was smiling. Those movies gave her that.”
When I looked back at Alessia, her expression had softened. There was a deep, sad understanding in her eyes.
“I’m glad she found that joy,” she said, offering me a small, gentle smile.
My own smile warmed with the memory.
“Me too.”
We stayed like that for another second, suspended in the quiet.
Then she said, “Goodbye, Cassian.”
I love you.
The words were a scream in my soul, but I didn’t say them. I just nodded and let her hand slip from mine.
This time, the words didn’t fail me because of some mental block. They failed because I chose to hold them back. Even if I could have spoken them perfectly, I would have stayed silent.
She didn’t want my love anymore.
And forcing my love on her when she had made it clear she didn’t want it would have been the cruelest, most selfish thing I could do.
I didn’t want to be that man anymore.
My eyes remained fixed on her.
I watched her nod to Naija and slide into the car. I watched the engine come to life. I watched the car move away, tracking it until it became a speck in the distance. Then even that disappeared.
I didn’t look away.
Not once.
And she never looked back.
Not once.