Chapter 19
Patrick squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the anger bubbling up inside him. “Then why didn’t anyone tell me?”
If they’d just told him, he never would’ve let Maisy go to the civil office. He never would’ve let her walk away with those divorce papers in her hand.
“We did try to call you, sir, but your phone was off…” The manager’s voice trailed off, getting softer and softer, while Patrick’s face went ghostly, pale.
He took a shaky step back as memories crashed over him.
He remembered now. That day, after he’d tricked Maisy into signing the divorce papers and showed them to Melinda, Melinda had kissed him–finally letting down the guard he’d spent so long trying to break through. Riding the high, he’d dropped the divorce agreement at the registrar’s office and jetted off to the Maldives with Melinda.
He’d wanted to give his mistress his undivided attention, so he’d turned off his phone. He never imagined that one simple decision would lead to a disaster this big.
Bang.
Suddenly, Patrick punched the wall. Blood spurted out instantly, turning the spotless white wall a shocking shade of red.
At that moment, the staff member sent to fetch the divorce certificate came running back,
breathless, and handed it to the manager.
“Mr. Callahan, here’s your divorce certificate. Please keep it safe–if you ever want to remarry, you’ll need this.”
Patrick just stared, stunned, before finally turning and looking at the certificate in the manager’s
hand.
He stood there for a long moment before slowly reaching out. The second his fingers touched the raised seal, it felt like he’d grabbed a hot iron. He flinched, yanking his hand back, the paper rustling through the air like a warning. The world blurred, and he could hear the scratchy sound of his own swallow, taste the metallic tang of blood in his dry throat.
The certificate’s color was off–not the vibrant, joyful red he remembered from their marriage license, but a dull, bruised purple, like a wound that refused to fade. Just looking at it made his heart ache.
Patrick’s hand wavered in midair, fingers clenching and unclenching. In the end, he took the certificate–his and Maisy’s last connection, reduced to nothing more than an official document.
His thumb drifted over the embossed seal, the rough texture of government paper scraping against his skin.
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Chapter 19
Suddenly, he was back at the registry five years ago. Maisy’s ring finger had a faint pink line from her new wedding band, and now his own fingers curled the same way, pressing a pale crescent into the edge of the paper.
Back then, they’d stood so close, grinning like fools, full of hope.
Now, the photo inside the divorce certificate showed only him–alone, face blank, staring into the lens like a stranger.
Patrick took a shaky breath, stuffed the certificate in his pocket, and ran for home.
He’d been divorced without even knowing it. He couldn’t accept this–he wouldn’t, not ever.
He was going to find Maisy. He was going to make this right.
There was no way she’d really let go of him. He refused to believe it.
Rain hammered the windshield as Patrick’s black Mercedes tore through the night. He blew through red lights, cutting the forty–minute drive down to twenty.
He barely waited for the car to stop before sprinting toward the house–their old marital home, Maisy’s only place in the country.
The Gilmore family had moved to the States ages ago, and Maisy’s whole career was here. After the divorce, Patrick had put the house in her name to make things easier for her.
He bounded up the steps and shoved the door open.
But instead of lights and Maisy waiting on the couch, he found only darkness. Dust floated in the beams of light that spilled in from outside.
Patrick froze, heart thudding, then slowly stepped inside.
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