Chapter 2
580words
In my office, I checked my phone—three missed calls from Patricia and a text: Papers ready for signature. Nathan signed yesterday. Can you come by at 2?
So this was it. The final nail in the coffin of our marriage. Nathan had already signed, without hesitation, without a call, without a second thought. I texted back a quick confirmation, then sat at my desk, allowing myself a moment to feel the full weight of what was happening.
My eyes drifted back to the Santorini photo. I should have removed it months ago, but something had stopped me. Maybe a foolish hope that we could find our way back to those people in the picture—young, in love, unbroken by grief and betrayal. I'd been thirty then, newly married to Boston's most eligible bachelor, certain our love would conquer anything.
We looked so happy in that photo, so sure of the future. How did we get from there to here? From shared laughter to cold legal documents? From "forever" to "over"?
"Dr. Carter?" My assistant's voice came through the intercom. "Your two o'clock is here."
I tucked the memories away, straightening my spine, forcing myself back into professional mode. No matter how broken my personal life, my patients needed me whole. "Send them in."
Olivia's POV
Three hours later, I stared at my signature on the divorce papers, the black ink still glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights of my lawyer's office. Final. Irreversible. Done. Seven years of marriage reduced to a single line of ink. My fingers traced the signature—Olivia Carter, no longer Olivia Carter-Wilson.
Memories flooded unbidden: Nathan's nervous smile on our first date at that little Italian restaurant, the way his eyes lit up when I said yes to his proposal on the Santorini cliffside, his tears of joy when we saw our baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound. Now it was all just that—memories. The future we'd planned together had evaporated like morning mist, leaving only this cold, official document declaring us strangers again.
"Are you sure about this, Olivia?" My lawyer, Patricia, studied me with concerned eyes over her rimless glasses. "Once I file these, there's no going back."
I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My hand trembled slightly, betraying the calm fa?ade I was desperately trying to maintain. I remembered Nathan's and my first fight, about whether to have children. I had been so certain then, so confident we would find common ground. Looking back, it was just the beginning of our divergence.
"I'm sure." My voice sounded foreign to my own ears. "Nathan signed his part yesterday. It's over."
Patricia sighed, sliding the papers into a manila folder. "I'll have copies sent to both of you by tomorrow. And Olivia..." she hesitated, her professional demeanor softening. "Take care of yourself."
"I always do," I replied automatically, though we both knew it wasn't true.
Outside, the November air bit at my cheeks as I walked to my car. Boston was already preparing for winter, the trees bare and skeletal against the gray sky. I remembered this time last year, when Nathan and I were preparing the nursery for our first child. We were so hopeful, so excited about the future. Now that room remained empty, just like my womb.
