CHAPTER 2

Ava's POV

"Sign it."

His voice was cold and etached.

The two words carried so much venom that my insides twisted, as I felt like puking.

My fingers trembled as I looked down at the document in my hands—the divorce letter, clean, fresh and painfully real.

I stared at the words written on it, my vision blurred as tears began to form at the sides of my eyes.

"Ava Morales is not a loyal wife, she has a history of sleeping around, she is emotionally cold, physically unattractive and lacks basic domestic skills, continuously refuses to listen or care for her husband’s needs."

Each line felt harder to read than the last, my lips parted as I read them aloud, “she is not physically attractive... doesn’t care for her husband...” my voice quivered.

A laugh erupted from infront of me, I didn't need to look up to know who owned it, Vivienne, she must be feeling really proud right now.

I looked up, shaking as I watched her sipping wine from one of the glasses, her legs crossed over each other like she owned the place, "you should have seen your face," she chuckled, "poor thing didn’t even see it coming."

I turned to Liam, my husband, my eyes pleading.

The man I had loved, sat grinning wickedly at me, his eyes held no remorse, he cranked his neck back, planting kisses on Vivienne's neck, "I can't believe she expected me to spend the rest of my precious life with a lowlife like her," his tone held so much contempt.

Turning to face me this time around, he repeated the two words but louder this time, "sign it!"

My legs felt weak, like I would fall, but I didn’t fall, at least not yet “Liam...” I whispered, “are you really doing this to me?”

He looked away, his left arm caressing Vivienne's butt, the other taking a sip of wine.

“I gave up everything for you, my career, my dreams, I ran your schedules, I sold your business ideas, I stayed up all night drafting proposals—your proposals, the ones you were supposed to be doing!" My voice held more weight this time around.

His jaw clenched, “you didn’t build my company, I did, you were just an assistant who was convenient enough to carry along.”

I thought nothing could be worse, but his words felt heavier than the words in the letter, “co—convenient?” I choked, “you told me I was beautiful... that you loved me.”

He scoffed, “I said what I had to, I needed someone who could clean up my mess, organize my meetings, and play the role of the 'perfect wife' and you offered yourself for the role and you were manageable for then, now, I'm done with you.”

I gasped.

"No, you’re lying,” I yelled, refusing to believe any of it.

“Am I?” He stepped forward, his eyes narrowing, “I never had feelings for you, Ava, you were just a stepping stone, nothing more and now, I’ve stepped over you, you are in my past Ava.”

My legs gave out, and I dropped to the floor, on my knees, “please,” I whispered, tears flowed freely down my cheeks, “don’t do this, I’ll change, I’ll be better, I’ll stay up all night more often, I’ll cook every meal, I’ll do everything to make you happy, just... don’t throw away everything we have built.”

He creased his eyebrows in disgust, “I don’t want you, there's no us for fuck's sake, just sign the damn papers!"

Vivienne rose, looking down at me with the smirk of a triumphant predator, staring down at its fallen prey, she tilted her head and placed a hand on her flat stomach, “besides,” she said mockingly, “he already has a successful shot in me, how many were you able to catch in all your tries?”

My stomach twisted violently, pregnant—she is pregnant, and she knew, she planned this, this pain, this shame, this disgrace.

I looked between them—Liam, emotionless, and Vivienne, proud.

"No," I murmured, “I won’t sign.”

Liam’s eyes turned cold, “sign it, Ava!”

“I won’t—”

His hand flew across my face, the impact was blinding, pushing me down, I stumbled, crashing against the edge of the table, pain spread across my cheek, ribs and heart.

Vivienne’s laughter was louder now, triumphant.

I still had my hand on my cheeks, recovering from the slap when I felt a cold feeling on my head, looking up to see Vivienne pouring her glass of wine over me, it dripped, over me...the red wine soaking my face and down to my dress, my white shirt.

“Trash always looks better soaked,” she sneered.

Then she turned to Liam, her arms spread over his neck, pressing her body against his, her lips crashing into his inches from me, I watched in horror as they celebrated my shame.

I couldn’t breathe, tears mixed with wine blurred my vision, and when I couldn't bear it any longer, I reached over, with trembling hands, I picked up the pen on the table, as if signing it could put an end to everything.

I signed, putting an end to five years of one-sided love, lies and pretence.

Standing up, I summoned as much strength as I could possibly get and with one final glance, I ran out of the room, hearing the painful sound of their laughs as I ran away.

I didn't stop running, not when I got out of the room, or got out of the apartment, not even stopping when I reached the ground floor, clutching onto the only thing I left Liam's life with, my bag— just my phone and a few personal documents, I ran till I reached the sidewalk.

I left everything behind—my charger, my clothes, my dignity.

Outside, the breeze slapped me hard, the cold hitting me harder.

My shirt clung to me, the reality of everything hit me again, I have nothing now, no one, not even a house, where do I possibly start from?

Stopping to catch my breath, I moved over to a bench not too far away, collapsing on it as my chest felt heavier than ever.

My phone kept buzzing as I wept, reaching over to check what it could be, I was greeted by yet another heartbreaking message, all the same—one, two, three, four—they just kept coming, from everywhere, reminding me that I have nothing, I guess this is the end.