I buried my head in his chest, my tears soaking his shirt.
It was time to board.
Mark gave me one last kiss. “Wait for me.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I said with a smile.
I stood there watching him walk through the security gate, his figure getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared completely.
There were so many people saying goodbye—some crying, some laughing. No one knew what the most heartbroken-looking woman among them was really thinking.
I wiped my tears and turned away from the gate.
In the cab, I checked the time on my phone. It was 10:00 a.m. The courthouse was open, but I wasn’t in a hurry. I had the driver take me home.
Back home, I took a long shower, washing off all my makeup. I changed into a clean, simple navy-blue dress that looked dignified and proper.
I sat at my vanity, looking at my reflection in the mirror. The naïve girl from five years ago was gone, replaced by a woman with a determined look in her eyes.
I picked up my phone and sent a text to Kevin: “Keep an eye on Mark’s movements after he lands in Toronto.”
A reply came back quickly: “Understood.”
Next, I texted the lawyer. “Miss Davis, I’ll be at your office at 2 p.m. today.”
She replied, “Sounds good. See you then.”
With everything arranged, I grabbed my purse. Inside were all the necessary documents: our marriage certificate, my ID, bank cards, and the investigation report from Kevin.
At 11:00 a.m. sharp, I left the house.
The courthouse wasn’t far, about a twenty-minute walk. I decided to walk, a final stroll to mark the end of this chapter of my life.
The streets were busy, everyone caught up in their own lives. No one noticed a woman walking toward the courthouse to end her five-year marriage.
The courthouse lobby was relatively quiet. I went to the information desk.
“Excuse me, I’d like to file for divorce.”
The clerk looked up at me. “Is this a contested or uncontested divorce?”
“Contested,” I said.
“Then you’ll need to file a petition with the court first. Once you have a judgment, you can finalize the paperwork here,” she explained.
I paused. “I thought I could just file it here directly. What materials do I need to file with the court?”
The clerk handed me a checklist. “Just follow the requirements on this list.”
I took the list and glanced at it. I had everything I needed.
“Thank you.” I turned and left the building.
It seemed I had oversimplified things. Divorce wasn’t just a matter of saying you wanted one. It was a legal process.
I took out my phone and called my lawyer.
“Miss Davis, I just went to the courthouse. They said I need to file a petition first.”
“That’s correct,” Miss Davis said. “Because your husband is now out of the country, you can’t file for an uncontested divorce. It has to go through the litigation process. Come to my office this afternoon and we’ll go over the strategy.”
“Okay.”
After hanging up, I stood outside the courthouse watching people come and go. Some were beaming, coming to get a marriage license. Others looked miserable, coming to finalize a divorce.
Marriage is like a fortress, I thought: people outside want to get in and people inside want to get out.
At 2 p.m., I was in Miss Davis’s office.
She was a woman in her forties, sharp and competent. She offered me a seat and a bottle of water.
“Miss Miller, I’ve reviewed the materials you sent over. Your case is a bit complex,” Miss Davis said. “First, your husband is now abroad, which will make serving him with the papers more complicated. Second, regarding the division of assets, we need to investigate the property he purchased overseas.”
“I understand,” I nodded. “How long will it likely take?”
“If things go smoothly, about six months. If he’s uncooperative, it could take longer.”
“I can wait six months. Let’s start the proceedings now,” I said.
“Very well.”
Miss Davis produced a document. “This is a draft of the petition. Please review it and see if you have any changes.”
I read it carefully. The petition detailed Mark’s wrongdoings, including his infidelity and the transfer of marital assets.
“It’s fine.” I signed my name.
“Then we will file this with the court tomorrow,” Miss Davis said. “Also, the matter of you transferring the funds from the joint account—it’s best to keep that confidential for now. If he finds out, he might try to take preemptive action.”
“I understand,” I said. “No one knows about it except you.”
Leaving the law firm, I felt a sense of relief.
The road to divorce was long, but I had taken the first step.
When I got home, I started packing up Mark’s belongings—his clothes, his books, his photos. Each item was once a part of my reality, but now they only filled me with disgust.
I put everything into boxes, planning to ship them to his parents. Let them see what kind of a son they raised.
While I was packing, my phone rang. It was Mark.
I took a deep breath and answered.
“Hannah, I’ve landed in Toronto.” Mark’s voice sounded excited.
“Oh, was the flight okay?” I tried to keep my voice normal.
“It was great. The weather here is nice, but the jet lag is tough,” he said. “How was your day? Did you cry a lot?”
“I’m okay.”
“You should get some rest,” he said. “Hannah, I love you.”
I paused for a few seconds, then said, “Me, too.”
After hanging up, I stared at the call log on my phone and laughed.
He said he loved me, but he only loved a naïve, gullible woman who would happily hand over her money. He never loved the real me.
The next few days, I went to work as usual and continued clearing out his things at night. I packed up everything of Mark’s and arranged for it to be shipped.
I also rearranged the furniture and took down all our photos together. The apartment slowly transformed into a space that was mine alone.
Without his presence, I felt a sense of freedom.
Five days later, Miss Davis called.
“Miss Miller, the petition has been filed and accepted by the court.”
“That was fast,” I said, surprised.
“Yes, your documentation was very thorough, so the process went smoothly,” she said. “Next, the court will issue a summons for your husband. He will be required to respond within a specified time. If he fails to respond, the court can issue a default judgment.”
“Okay, I understand.”
After hanging up, I let out a long breath. Everything was proceeding as planned.
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