He just stood there, ashen, hollow, trembling. His lips parted, but no words came. Pain carved itself across his face, raw and open, like a wound still bleeding. For a fleeting second, guilt cut through my numbness. A pang—sharp and unfamiliar. But it didn’t last.
In the back of my mind, the voices rose again.
Zara’s hiss. The Scholar’s sneer.
They hadn’t appeared in months, but now they screamed, mocking me with threats, promises, and consequences I hadn’t yet dared to face. Their words clung to me like chains, coiling tighter around my heart. I clenched my fists, shaking with rage.
No more.
No more being their puppet. No more submitting to fear cloaked in prophecy. I had done their bidding long enough. I would not be their obedient little pet a second longer.
Jack and I stood in silence, the air between us thick and unmoving—a chasm neither dared to bridge.
Then, finally, he spoke.
His voice was low, hollow. The voice of a man grieving someone who hadn’t died but had simply… disappeared.
“Is that it?”
“Not really.”
I gripped his arms, staring into him with cold, unflinching resolve. “This isn’t working. I don’t want to be married to you anymore. I want a divorce.”
He crumpled, like I’d punched the breath from his lungs.
“I knew things were strained,” he said, blinking, as if trying to stay grounded. “But I never imagined we’d end here.”
Before we could say more, Olivia burst into the room like a beam of sunlight—laughing, bounding, radiating life.
Instantly, I let go of Jack, plastering on a smile. The performance began.
Jack’s expression softened into something real. Mine was a carefully crafted mask.
“Hello, Olivia, darling,” I cooed.
“What’s up, buttercup?” Jack added, bending to her height.
She giggled and threw her arms around him, hopping from foot to foot with manic joy. “Come watch me jump on the trampoline! I can goreallyhigh!”
She proved it right then, springing so high her fingertips nearly kissed the low ceiling.
Jack laughed, wide-eyed. “You can go that high?”
“Sure can!” she beamed.
He ruffled her hair affectionately. “I’ll be right there, little monkey. And your mom, too?”
He looked at me, searching for something. Maybe hope. Maybe denial.
I forced another smile. “Of course, kiddo. We’ll both come watch.”
Olivia darted out of the room, leaving us in her wake.
I stood frozen for a moment before exhaling. My mask slipped.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “But I can’t do this anymore.”
Jack turned to me, confused.
