I left early the next morning.
The drive back to Ryan’s city felt longer than it should have. Every mile brought me closer to a house that no longer felt like mine. The divorce papers sat in the bag beside me on the passenger seat. I had checked them three times before leaving. Everything was ready. Signatures. Dates. Terms. All that was left was for Ryan to sign.
Halfway there, I called my lawyer. “Mr. Daniels, it’s Bella.”
“Good morning. Are you on your way?”
“Yes. Can you meet me at Ryan’s house in about an hour? I happen to be close.”
There was a short pause. “Are you sure you want to do it there?”
“Yes. I don’t want to drag this out.”
“Alright. I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
I ended the call and focused on the road. My hands were steady on the wheel, but my stomach felt tight.
