Chapter 4

Divorce cooling-off period countdown: 1 day.

Perhaps we'd formed some kind of tacit understanding—Clara and I rarely appeared together at project meetings anymore.

But sometimes, when Adrian wasn't around, Clara would suddenly come downstairs. At project meetings, she wouldn't speak, just occasionally glance at me.

I didn't really understand what this woman was thinking lately, and I didn't want to.

I started moving things out bit by bit, trying not to let her notice.

But she still found out.

This day, after a meeting, Clara proactively invited me to sit in her office for a while.

As soon as I sat down, she asked:

"You've been moving a lot of stuff out lately? And I haven't seen you come home either."

I nodded, using an excuse I'd prepared long ago.

"Yeah, going to stay at the old house for a while."

Clara's expression showed hesitation:

"About the wedding, I've thought about it for a long time, and we can still hold it..."

I interrupted her: "There's hardly any time left. No need."

Her expression showed surprise: "What do you mean, 'hardly any time left'?"

I hesitated, wondering whether to show her the divorce agreement we'd already signed.

Adrian's phone call came at just the right time, helping me out.

I looked at the name on her phone and smiled:

"You go ahead and take care of business. We're not in a rush to talk."

Clara turned the door handle, and to express her apology, turned back to reaffirm a promise:

"I'll definitely come find you at the old house tomorrow."

The next day, she broke her promise again.

I sat on the sofa in the old house, looking down at my phone.

Countdown: 12 hours.

A local news notification popped up on my news app.

Adrian was making an appearance at a new project, with Clara standing behind him.

Recalling the promise the woman made yesterday, I couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

If she knew these were the last twelve hours with me, would she still break her promise?

Maybe not. Maybe she still would.

But the answer no longer mattered.

I spent several hours tidying up the house.

In the empty old house, there really wasn't much that belonged to me.

It's just that we got married here, and I was still nostalgic.

I called my partner. Since I'd already told him beforehand, I still said goodbye to him.

Then I dialed the lawyer:

"The divorce agreement was notarized a month ago. I don't need to go through additional procedures now, right?"

The lawyer's answer was concise:

"No need."

After a pause, his congratulations came through:

"Congratulations, Mr. Young."

I smiled and hung up.

I just quietly waited until evening.

Three hours on the countdown, I packed all my belongings and bought a ticket for the next day.

Two hours left, I cut up all our photos together, leaving only myself in the albums.

One hour remaining, I arranged the divorce agreement neatly and placed it on the table.

I originally wanted to leave some words, but decided against it.

I could only say silently in my heart:

"This is the last time I'll call you that."

"I loved you for ten years. Loving someone for ten years is very difficult, but I've finally chosen to give up."

"Congratulations to you, and congratulations to me."

Carrying my luggage, the instant the countdown ended, I placed my hand on the door handle.

It was over.

My marriage.

Unexpectedly, the door opened from outside.

Clara had sweat on her forehead, clearly having just exercised.

She was panting, the smile on her face tinged with guilt:

"I'm sorry, Mason. I just finished seeing someone off..."

Her tone faltered, her gaze landing on my luggage and the plane ticket in my hand.

"Where are you going?"