Chapter 9
The white hospital walls were blindingly harsh.
After the blood transfusion, the doctor insisted Mara stay for observation. But Knox never once came to check on
her..
Her phone kept buzzing with photos from Elena–pictures of Knox feeding her soup, Knox sitting by her bedside, Knox sleeping while she secretly kissed his cheek.
Mara deleted them one by one, feeling nothing inside.
So this was what it meant to be dead inside–even the pain disappeared.
On the last day of the divorce cooling–off period, Mara got up early. Sunlight streamed through the curtains as she packed the last piece of clothing into her suitcase.
The Paris plane ticket lay quietly in her bag–3 PM flight.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Knox stood at the door in an impeccable suit, like he’d just come from some important meeting.
“Elena’s out of danger.” He got straight to the point. “I keep my word. I’ll go with you to withdraw the application.”
Mara looked at him quietly.
“But,” Knox added, “next time you screw up, I’m still filing for divorce.”
Mara suddenly wanted to laugh. There wouldn’t be a next time. She was going to live her own life now.
They didn’t speak the entire drive.
When the car stopped in front of the Civil Affairs Bureau, Mara gripped her bag strap tightly.
“We’re here.” Knox unbuckled his seatbelt. “Let’s get this done quick–I still need to check on Elena at the hospital.”
Mara stared at the familiar glass doors of the courthouse, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the edge of her phone. She needed to find a way to get Knox to leave–she couldn’t let him follow her inside.
‘I…”
Just as she started to speak, Knox’s phone rang.
‘Elena?” He frowned as he answered. “What’s wrong? Don’t cry, I’m coming right over,”
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Chapter 9
After hanging up, Knox turned to Mara: “Elena’s having an emotional breakdown. I need to get to her. Go withdraw the application yourself and text me when it’s done.”
Mara dropped her lashes to hide the relief in her eyes: “Okay.”
She watched Knox’s car speed off, then turned and walked into the courthouse.
The familiar clerk smiled and greeted her: “Miss Mara, here to cancel again?”
“No,” Mara pulled out the prepared documents from her bag. “I’m here to get my divorce certificate today.”
Back home, she placed his copy of the certificate on the coffee table, then grabbed her pre–packed suitcase.
The door closed softly, but it felt like a knife slicing through seven years of delusion.
On the way to the airport, the sun was shining bright. Mara rolled down the window, slowly closing her eyes as free
air hit her face.
Goodbye, Knox. This time, I really was done with you.
35.4
