Chapter Two: The D-Day

Today is the day.

The day that I am finally divorcing my husband.

The thought should have hurt more.

Three years ago, Genevieve Everhart would have cried at the idea of divorce. Two years ago, she would have begged for another chance. A year ago, she might have stayed awake all night wondering what she had done wrong.

Today, in three hours, twenty-seven minutes, and fourteen seconds, my marriage will officially cease to exist.

I’ve honestly waited thirty days for this moment.

Thirty days since Nathan signed the papers.

Thirty days since he scribbled his name and signature at the bottom of the divorce papers without lifting his eyes from his phone.

Without reading a single word.

And without noticing he was signing away his wife.

Since last night, I had barely slept a wink thinking of what I happened and a huge part of it was on the idea of Nathan. I tried to cry my heart out last night but there was no tear to spare. I felt drained to the point that I feel empty.

It hurts a lot but I can’t seem to feel anything.

I waited for the divorce, also waiting for him to finally realize I am already drifting away. Only to know that regardless of what I do, and who I am, this marriage was bound to end.

Since last night, I stopped hoping. I realized that now, that every cold shoulder he gave me, every ignored time, it all meant something. Which was a bitter truth to swallow.

Today, I am calm. Strangely calm as I took another sip of coffee and watched the rain slide down the courthouse windows.

“Mrs. Whitmore?” The clerk approached me with a warm smile.

“We can begin now.”

I nodded and rose from my seat with the coffee on my hand.

My heels clicked softly against the polished marble floors as I entered the hearing room.

It was small, and I asked it to be strictly privatized, quiet enough to my satisfaction.

Exactly how I wanted it.

Only the judge, the clerk, my lawyer, and the pack elders are there. Not even a member of Nathan’s family is there to witness. But after all, they can’t attend something they aren’t aware of.

There’s no reporters and other pack members. Which saves me from drama and confrontation if they would be here.

The only important person missing now was my husband.

I checked the time again on my wrist watch.

10:58

Not surprising at this point, Nathan had been late to every single event when it was regarding to me. He had been late to our anniversary dinner. Late to my birthday. Even late to every promise he’d ever made.

It seemed pretty fitting that he’d be late to our divorce too.

I sat down without him upon the arrival of the judge and the proceedings began.

And twenty minutes later, the door finally opened and what welcomed us is Nathan, on his phone, with his tie messed and a polo halfway through unbuttoned.

He walked in without assessing what’s going on.

Alpha Nathan Whitmore.

The pack’s alpha, and a business magnate.

The man I once gave up everything for. The man I once loved with my whole heart and soul. He then glanced around the room after reaching the center.

Confused.

Then his eyes finally landed on me as he raised his eyebrow at me after putting the call on his phone on hold.

“God, what’s this now? Genevieve?”

Not a good morning, not even how are you, or an I love you I’ve been wanting to hear for almost three years now. Just that and an eyebrow questioning me like a murder suspect.

I scoffed, some things just never change, and for sure would never even bother to change.

“Sit down, Nathan.” I pointed on the other vacant seat across from me.

His brows furrowed but he still sat down.

He then secretly continued his call, typing on his phone, calling and talking. Still unaware and the irony would’ve been funny if I hadn’t spent thirty days waiting for him to notice.

The proceedings continued with his whispers and groans and the elders glares to him without him even noticing he’s getting stabbed death glares from behind.

My lawyer then slid a paper of the divorce finalization on the table in front of him while he was in a call he doesn’t want to end.

“Sign here.” He said and Nathan barely looked up.

“Mm,” Nathan mumbled and signed without reading it.

I scoffed once again and leaned against my chair, glancing at the elders who are totally against of us divorcing. I grinned at their disappointed whispers and annoyance.

That’s the alpha you are protecting with your lives for.

Three years of marriage ended by a man too distracted to read what was in front of him.

Even now that it’s done, he looked mildly inconvenienced. As though this hearing, or him simply signing a document were interrupting something more important.

The judge then adjusted a pair of glasses as the lawyer collected the documents and handed it to him first.

As the judge started going through the papers, I kept my silence with my lawyer beside me. Looking at the man in front of me still on his phone.

“It’s the first time I get to fight against such,” the lawyer beside me whispered at me totally looking at Nathan like he looked at something absurd. The room grew very quiet as the seconds pass by. Then finally, the judge cleared his throat before fixing the papers in front of him and looked at the both of us with his hands clasped.

“Alpha Whitmore.”

Nathan straightened his back and glanced at the judge before saying, “Yes?”

The judge looked down at the document then back up.

“Before we proceed on the finalization, I need to ask for the record.”

Nathan then finally tried to put his attention to the judge before us.

“Mr. Whitmore, your presence today is required for the finalization of your divorce from Mrs. Whitmore. Is there any reason these proceedings, signed and approved by both parties, should not continue?”

The color drained from Nathan’s face as the room grew quieter.

The coffee in my hand suddenly tasted much sweeter as I went to take another sip in the midst of the chaos.

And for the first time that morning.

Nathan looked at me with all his attention, like he was seeing me for the first time in years. His eyes widened as he stood up in shock.

Like the gaze he had when we first met.