Chapter 2 Divorce Letter !

Aysha POV

"Ma, what have you done?"

Martha's voice broke through everything. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

"Ma, you're bleeding, come on, get up, let me help you to your room."

She reached for me but I pulled back gently.

"It's okay, I have to clean this up first, he said before he gets back,"

"Ma." Her voice was firm but soft, the way only Martha could manage. "That's my job, let me handle it, please."

I looked at the mess, then at my hand, then back at her face. She wasn't moving until I did.

"Fine," I whispered.

She helped me up slowly, one hand supporting my back, the other careful around my injured hand. We walked to my room quietly, the hallway feeling longer than usual.

"Why do you keep letting him do this to you?" she said as she sat me on the edge of the bed, already reaching for the first aid kit she knew I kept in the bathroom cabinet. "He keeps downgrading you, insulting you, embarrassing you right in front of that woman. Why can't you just leave, go back to your family, start over somewhere,"

"Because I love him, Martha."

She paused. Didn't say anything for a second, just stared at me.

"I've put in so much into this marriage, I can't just walk away from it like that." I continued.

She sighed. "But Ma,"

"Let it go." I said gently because she meant well, she always did. "I'll be fine. It's just a small cut, it'll heal before you even blink." I smiled a little, trying to lighten up.

She laughed despite trying not to, shaking her head as she cleaned the wound carefully.

Martha has been with me for three years now. I employed her during one of the hardest seasons of her life, against Adrian's wishes of course, but I didn't care. She became less of a help and more of a little sister somewhere along the way, the kind you don't plan for but can't imagine life without.

"Okay, I'm going to make breakfast," she said after wrapping my hand neatly. "What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

She smiled and left me alone with the silence.

And the silence, as always, brought everything rushing back.

I got up before my mind could settle into it. Shower. Get dressed. Stay moving. That's my thing, keeping busy so my thoughts don't catch up with me.

After the shower I pulled out my favorite black sundress. I needed something that felt like a good mood even if it had to be faked.

When I came downstairs Martha was plating breakfast with unnecessary ceremony.

"Okay so," she announced, straightening up, "we have scrambled eggs, croissants with cream cheese, turkey bacon, a cold fruit bowl, freshly squeezed orange juice, made by yours truly." She did a full dramatic bow.

"Merci beaucoup," I laughed, settling into my chair.

"Stay, eat with me," I said before she could disappear back into the kitchen. "Please, you know I hate eating alone."

She pulled out the chair beside me without argument.

We ate and talked, and for a little while the morning felt almost normal. Then I remembered.

"My tenth wedding anniversary is tomorrow," I said, setting my fork down. "I want to do something special for Adrian. A romantic dinner for just the two of us with proper decorations. I want the whole thing. Will you.... help me?"

Martha looked at me for a moment, something moving behind her eyes, but she nodded.

"Of course, Ma. Whatever you need."

"Just handle the food side, I'll get the gifts and decorations tomorrow when I go out. Oh, and once everything's set up and done, I'm giving you two full days off. Go see your family, your friends, whoever you've been missing."

She screamed. Actually screamed.

"Ma, thank you so much, you have no idea,"

"It's fine, it's fine," I laughed, waving her down. "I want the house to just be me and Adrian for those two days so honestly, you're doing me a favor. I know you're tired of seeing my face anyway."

We both cracked up.

The rest of breakfast was easy and warm, we mapped out the menu, talked about flowers, candles, the whole vision. By the time we cleared the table everything was planned and I was actually looking forward to tomorrow.

I wandered around the house for a while after that, trying to think of a gift. The problem with buying gifts for Adrian is that he has everything. Everything expensive, everything curated, nothing with any sentimental gap I could fill.

I was still thinking when I realized where my feet had taken me.

Right back in front of the study.

"Oh, are you serious right now." I whispered to myself, stepping back instinctively.

I turned to walk away, I genuinely did, but then a thought stopped me. He wasn't home. Maybe if I just looked around in there I could find something, a hint, an idea, something that could tell me what to get him. Something personal.

I stood there biting my lip, running every possible version of how this could go wrong through my head.

"Forget it." I pushed the door open quietly.

The room felt different when he wasn't in it. Still intimidating, still full of his things, but quieter. I stepped in carefully, eyes scanning the shelves, the desk, the cabinets.

His laptop was open on the desk.

I wasn't going to look at it. I really wasn't.

But I looked.

The wallpaper on the screen was him and Mira. Not a candid, not something accidental, a proper photo, the two of them close, comfortable, smiling at each other the way people smile when they don't know anyone else exists. He set that deliberately. He looked at that every single day.

I stood there longer than I should have.

Then I heard his car pull into the driveway.

I spun around too fast and my arm caught the stack of papers on the edge of the desk. They scattered everywhere, sliding across the floor in every direction.

"Not again, why am I like this,"

I dropped to my knees, gathering them fast, stacking them back as neatly as I could, hands moving quick. But one page stopped me cold.

The header was bold, unmistakable.

Divorce Letter.

The room tilted. My chest locked up completely. I read it again just to make sure I wasn't seeing things.

Divorce Letter.

Downstairs I heard Martha's voice, bright and unsuspecting, greeting Adrian at the door.

I grabbed the papers, shoved them back onto the desk, ran out of the study, pulled the door shut behind me without making a sound, made it to my room, closed my door and pressed my back against it.

My heart was slamming so hard I could feel it in my throat.

I slid down to the floor slowly, knees pulled to my chest, the whole room spinning around me.

Then came a soft knock on my door.

"Ma?" Martha's voice came through quietly. "Sir Adrian is asking for you downstairs. He said it's urgent."

I squeezed my eyes shut.

"What the hell did I just see."