Chapter 8
When I walked into Anthony’s hospital room, he’d just woken up, looking pale as a ghost.
When he saw me, his eyes, which had been dull, suddenly brightened with excitement and urgency. He sat up in bed, almost desperate.
“Kayla, you finally agreed to see Me,” he said.
His eyes were bloodshot, dark circles under them, and he looked like he was desperate.
He said, “Kayla, I know I messed up. Now I realize what really hurt you was Sarah. I didn’t set boundaries between us. I just thought of her as someone who needed looking after, like my sister.
“My biggest mistake was not telling you she was my ex, and that made you think the worst. I never thought about things from your perspective, and I ended up hurting you. I’m sorry. Please, give me a chance to make it right.”
He looked at me, desperate and hopeful, his eyes pleading. I just looked down and sighed.
Anthony, afraid I’d reject him again, quickly said, “I’ve already had Sarah removed from the company. You won’t see her again. I know I was wrong, Kayla. Please, let’s not get divorced.”
Anthony looked at me, his eyes grew darker, clearly frustrated by how distant I was.
He took a deep breath and kept explaining, “I didn’t know you cared so much about Sarah. I always thought you didn’t mind.
“Back when Sarah and I were together, my family was totally against it. She suffered a lot because of their opposition, and in the end, she had no choice but to leave the country.
“All these years, I’ve felt guilty toward her, like I owed her something. So whenever she needed help, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to step in, to make it up to her, even just a little.”
He thought it was just sympathy, that everyone could see it for what it was, and that Sarah would understand. But he never
expected that, as time went on, people would start to see it as something else entirely.
I forced a smile and said softly, “I get it now. Whatever. I just want a divorce. If you still feel guilty about her, keep pitying her all you want. It doesn’t bother me.”
Anthony took a deep breath, as if my words had really stung him. His face turned even paler.
I took the divorce agreement out of my bag, met his gaze, and handed it to him.
“Look over the agreement. If there’s no problem, just sign it,” I said.
He glanced down at the agreement, his smile turning bitter. He leaned back against the headboard, all the urgency to explain gone, and sank into the pillow.
After a long moment, he finally looked up at Me.
“Is there really no other way?” Anthony asked, his voice rough and low. I nodded firmly.
A month later, I finally put an end to three years of Messy ties with Anthony.
Honestly, he kept dragging things out, and it was obvious he didn’t really want the divorce.
The day we got our divorce papers, I Smiled at him and said, “Let’s just be
strangers from now on.”
But he refused to let go, pulled me into his arms, his eyes rimmed with tears, and
asked, “Could you love me one More time?”
But honestly, there was no such thing as love that never faded.
And I never once doubted my decision to end things between us.
I got how he felt. Anthony had always had life handed to him, never really hit a wall before. This was the first time he realized Some things couldn’t be fixed by swallowing his pride.
That sting of failure probably hurt him More than actually losing me.
Three years of Marriage had finally come to an end. I couldn’t say if I felt happy or sad, but I still treated Myself to a delicate cake and a beautiful bouquet.
I lit the candles and told myself, “From now on, I’m only going to please myself.”
The candlelight danced, time stretched on, and from this Moment forward, every day
was a new beginning.