“Daniel,” I reply.
“And you must be Talia,” he adds, polite but precise.
Talia offers a small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”
He ushers us into his office. The second the door shuts, his expression flattens.
“So,” he says evenly, folding his hands on the desk, “I haven’t received anything from you, Talia. Care to explain what this is about?”
I step in before she can spiral. “That’s why we’re here. It’s… complicated.”
Daniel closes his eyes briefly, like he’s summoning patience from a higher power. “All right. When did you receive the documents?”
Talia answers before I can. “A few days ago.”
Daniel’s eyes snap to her. “And the deadline?”
“Passed,” she admits.
He exhales through his nose, a low, pained sound, like he’s watching a car crash unfold in slow motion.
“You understand,” he says carefully, “that annulments are time-sensitive and jurisdiction-specific. We needed those documents returned within the window we discussed.”
“I know,” Talia whispers.
Daniel turns back to me. “So what exactly are you asking me now?”
I force the words out. “Options.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, then leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
“The option you had was annulment,” he says. “That window is closed.”
My throat tightens. “There has to be something.”
Daniel shakes his head once, firm. “Not realistically.”
Talia’s face goes pale.
I stare at Daniel. “So what now?”
He exhales. “Now you’re married.”
The words slam into the room.
Daniel continues, voice blunt because that’s what I pay him for. “If you want to dissolve the marriage now, you’re looking at divorce.”
Divorce.
The word echoes in my head like a horn in an empty rink.
Talia’s fingers curl into her coat sleeve. She looks like she might be sick.
I feel my anger flare again, sharp and hot. Not at Daniel. Not even fully at her.
At the fact that my life just got ten times harder because of one missed deadline.
I drag my eyes back to Daniel. “So divorce is it.”
