Chapter 4
When the nurse brought over the blood transfusion consent form, I signed my name without a moment’s hesitation.
I knew that if I refused, Jeremy would immediately become suspicious.
I couldn’t take that risk, couldn’t let him catch even a hint that I was planning to leave.
The oversized needle pierced my vein, making me shiver involuntarily.
As my blood drained away, I grew colder and colder.
The world blurred at the edges. I had no idea how many vials they took, but eventually, I couldn’t hold on any longer and slipped into unconsciousness.
When I opened my eyes again, it was already the next morning.
Today, I could finally complete the divorce.
I picked up my phone and booked a flight that would leave in four hours.
I didn’t even notice when Jeremy appeared at my side. “What are you doing?” he asked.
I quickly locked my phone and brushed him off, “Nothing.”
He didn’t press further. In a rare, almost cheerful tone, he said, “Since you behaved and donated blood, I’ll go with you to withdraw the petition.”
“But,” he added, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his voice hardened, “if you make another mistake, I’ll file for divorce again.”
I didn’t answer, just lowered my gaze and smiled faintly.
Jeremy, there won’t be a next time for us.
I’m ready to live my own life now.
We rode in silence all the way to the courthouse.
When the car stopped at the entrance, Jeremy’s phone suddenly buzzed.
He glanced at the caller ID, and his brow instantly furrowed. “Kendra? Don’t worry, I’m on my way.”
After hanging up, he said matter-of-factly, “She hit her head when she jumped, and now she’s got a headache. I need
to go be with her. You go inside and withdraw the petition yourself. Text me when you’re done.”
I lowered my eyes, hiding the relief that washed over me. “Alright.”
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Chapter 4
Jeremy seemed surprised by how calm I was, but in the end, he said nothing and walked away.
288 Vouchers
I watched his black Maybach disappear down the road before turning and walking into the courthouse.
The clerk greeted me with a teasing familiarity, “Ms. Milton, here to withdraw your petition again?”
“No.” I slid my prepared documents across the counter, my voice steadier than I expected. “This time, I’m filing for
divorce.”
Back at the house, I placed Jeremy’s copy of the divorce certificate right in the center of the coffee table, grabbed my suitcase-which I’d packed days ago—and left.
The door closed softly behind me, but the sound felt like scissors, slicing through eight years of tangled history.
At the airport, as I waited to board, I took out my phone, removed the SIM card, and tossed it into the trash.
As the plane lifted off, I took one last look at the city below.
Goodbye, Jeremy.
This time, I really am done with you.
