My Husband’s Countdown Dropped When She Smiled At Him Chapter 04

My Husband’s Countdown Dropped When She Smiled At Him Chapter 04

I walked out of Owen’s office building, and the sky was dark again.

The rainy season in Crestwood was dragging on forever this year.

Maya handed me my keys and studied my face.

“You look like a ghost. Did you fight with Owen?”

I shook my head. 　　“No.”

We didn’t fight. We didn’t even raise our voices.

We just kept moving, quietly, toward that inevitable end.

Four in the afternoon, and the sky was already pitch black. Rain pounding down.

I drove out to the old house in the suburbs.

My mom left it to me. The only real inheritance I got. Inside were some old things she used when she was alive.

The property manager called. Said the basement was flooding because the land sat low.

By the time I got there, the water was already up to my calves.

I spent two hours alone in that freezing dirty water.

Carrying boxes of old photo albums and journals up the stairs, one by one.

When I finally got out, I was covered in mud and shivering so hard I couldn’t stop.

The car died on an access road halfway back.

The water was too deep. The exhaust pipe flooded.

No streetlights. Just the roar of rain hammering the roof.

I pulled out my phone.

Battery at fifteen percent.

I called Owen.

After seven years, it was pure instinct. He was who I reached for when things went wrong.

The phone rang a long time before he picked up.

“Hey, Nora.”

His voice was muffled, and in the background I heard shouting. Someone crying.

“Owen, my car broke down on South Loop.”

My hands were ice-cold on the wheel.

“The rain’s really bad. I can’t get a cab. Can you come get me?”

A second of silence on his end.

Then Paige’s voice, screaming through the phone: “I don’t want to live anymore! I can’t pay this back! Just let me die!”

Owen’s voice turned hard and frantic.

“Get down from there! What the hell are you doing by the window?”

Then, quick and clipped, he talked to me.

“Nora, Paige screwed up a project. Big time. Cost the company serious money. She’s on the roof right now, threatening to jump. I can’t leave.”

He paused.

“Call a tow truck or grab a cab. I’ll pay for it.”

“I have to go.”

Click.

The line went dead.

I stared at the dark screen.

And I swear, the inside of that car felt colder than the floodwater outside.

I didn’t call back.

I didn’t call a tow truck.

I pushed the door open and stepped into the downpour.

The rain soaked me in seconds.

I walked alone through water above my ankles, heading for the nearest light.

About two miles later, I found a 7-Eleven and managed to flag down a cab.

By the time I got home, it was after ten.

The apartment was pitch black.

I didn’t turn on any lights.

I walked straight into the bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled out a suitcase.

I took a few everyday outfits. A few essentials.

The jewelry Owen bought me. The bags. I left all of it.

Everything still sitting in its original spot, neat and untouched.

After I packed, I went to the study.

Booted up the computer and printed one document.

Then I sat at the desk, picked up a pen, and signed my name on the last page.

Nora Harper.

Neat handwriting. Not one shake.

I put that document on the coffee table, right out in the open.

Next to it, I placed the spare key Owen had given me.

Then I grabbed my suitcase and walked out of the home I’d lived in for seven years.

The second the door closed behind me, something inside me went completely hollow.

Late that night—early morning, really—Owen came home exhausted.

He’d calmed Paige down and driven her back to her trailer park.

“Nora? I’m home.”

He called out while he was kicking off his shoes.

No answer.

He frowned and flipped on the living room light. His eyes went straight to the coffee table. He walked over, picked up the papers, and one look stopped his breathing.

He stared at the divorce settlement, eyes locked on the signature in the bottom right corner—and then something in his chest caved.

Right at that second, the number above his head—the one that had already dropped below a hundred days—started flickering like a broken bulb. [89 days 12 hours 05 minutes]

Changed to [125 days 7 hours 30 minutes]. For the first time, the timer jumped backward.