Page 20 of After Everything
The mediator, a woman in her fifties with gray hair and a kind face that had probably seen a thousand divorces, pushed the documents across the table toward me. "If you'll just sign here, here, and initial here."
Emma wasn't even in the room.
She'd sent her sister, Rachel. The one who'd never liked me, who'd given me that look at our wedding like she could see exactly how this would end. She sat across from me now, perfectly still, watching me with the same cold assessment I'd just received from the partners at my firm.
My firm. Except it wasn't really mine anymore, was it?
I picked up the pen. Put it down again.
"Is Emma..." I looked at Rachel. "Is she okay?"
Rachel's expression didn't change. "Sign the papers, David."
"I just want to know if she's?—"
"She's fine." Rachel's voice was clipped. "Better than fine, actually. She's thriving. Now sign the papers."
I looked down at the documents. Eight years of marriage reduced to legal language and property division. The house would be sold, proceeds split evenly. I'd keep my car, she'd keep hers. Retirement accounts divided. No alimony: Emma had insisted on that, Rachel had told me via email. She didn't want anything from me except out.
"Rachel." I tried to keep my voice steady. "I know you never liked me, but… can we just talk for a minute? Just... is there any way to fix this? Can I at least speak to Emma? Explain?—"
"Explain what?" Rachel leaned forward slightly. "That you were sleeping with another woman for five months? That you used my sister's work schedule to plan your affair? That you came home and kissed her after being with someone else?" Her voice was still controlled, but there was steel underneath. "Trust me, David. Emma understands the situation perfectly."
"I made a mistake?—"
"You made a choice." She cut me off. "Multiple choices. Every single time you texted that other woman, every time you met her at a hotel, every time you lied to Emma's face…” She paused, as if giving enough time for the words to land. “Those were choices. And now you get to live with the consequences."
The mediator cleared her throat gently. "Mr. Harrison, we do need to moveforward. If you're not prepared to sign today, we can reschedule, but?—"
"No." I picked up the pen again. "I'll sign."
Because what else was I going to do? Emma wasn't coming back. She'd made that clear by not even showing up today. By sending her sister, the lawyer, the one who'd negotiate the best deal, who'd make sure Emma got everything she deserved and I got exactly what I'd earned.
Which was nothing.
I signed. Initialed. Signed again. Each stroke of the pen felt like a door closing. A future erasing itself.
When I was done, Rachel gathered the papers efficiently. She didn't say anything. Didn't offer condolences or awkward pleasantries. Just packed up her briefcase and stood to leave.
"Rachel," I said. She paused at the door. "Can you at least tell her... tell her I'm sorry?"
Rachel looked at me for a long moment. Then: "She knows."
"And?"
"And she doesn't care."
Then she was gone, and I was alone in the conference room with the mediator, who was looking at me with something that might have been pity.
I didn't want pity. I wanted Emma. I wanted Sarah. I wanted my partnership back, my reputation, my life before everything fell apart.
But I'd lost all of it.
And for what?
CHAPTER 8: EMMA
Mrs. Ellis was crashing.
