He Watched the Stars With Her, So I Signed the Divorce Chapter 04

He Watched the Stars With Her, So I Signed the Divorce Chapter 04

My mother stood outside the medical center holding an insulated tumbler.

She did not ask what had happened. She simply handed it to me and said, “Come on. Let’s get the tests done first.”

After reviewing her results, the doctor recommended additional diagnostic testing.

My mother smiled.

“I’m getting older. A few minor health problems are nothing unusual.”

The more she tried to dismiss it, the harder it became for me to say anything.

While I was taking care of the bill at the front desk, I called Ryan.

He did not answer.

Claire’s documentary page, however, had just posted a new Reel.

The wind was fierce beside the lighthouse. Ryan stood behind her, holding the tripod steady while she filmed.

Claire looked into the camera and said, “What makes me feel safest is knowing I can always reach him, whether he’s at sea or back on shore.”

My mother stared at the screen for a long time before asking, “Has he treated you like this all these years?”

I put my phone away.

“Yes.”

For once, I did not make excuses for him.

Ryan came home at eight that evening.

He set a takeout container of clam chowder on the dining table.

“Claire’s shoot wrapped up, and I picked this up on the way home. It’s still warm. You and Mom can have some.”

My mother could not eat shellfish. My stomach could not handle rich chowder either.

He had forgotten all of it.

I dumped the chowder into the trash.

For the first time, Ryan lost his temper with me.

“Emma, what exactly do you want from me? I bring something home, and you throw it away and act like I’ve done something wrong. If I don’t bring anything, you say I don’t care.”

“Am I wrong no matter what I do?”

My mother rose from the couch.

“Ryan, Emma spent the entire day at the hospital with me. You promised you’d be there.”

Ryan softened his tone, but not his words.

“Mom, it’s not that I don’t care about you. Claire was working too. She was out at the lighthouse alone, and if the equipment failed, she could have been hurt.”

My mother said nothing more.

My phone buzzed again.

Claire had sent me a screenshot from her Instagram post.

She and Ryan stood together beneath the lighthouse while the setting sun stretched across the water behind them.

Claire: [Emma, don’t blame him. He’s just too kind for his own good.]

I replied: [You’ll see the evidence in court tomorrow.]

Less than a minute later, she deleted the Instagram post and the Reel.

Ryan’s phone rang.

He answered, and Claire’s voice trembled on the other end.

“Ryan, Emma said something about evidence in court tomorrow. Is she suing me?”

“I only made a post. Why is she doing this to me?”

Ryan turned toward me.

For the first time, I saw real panic in his eyes.

“What does that mean?”

I walked into the home office and removed a file folder from the desk drawer.

I laid the documents out on the table one by one: the court summons, a copy of the divorce petition, the call logs, and the rest of the evidence.

Ryan picked up the summons. When he saw the hearing date, the color drained from his face.

“Tomorrow?”

“Nine a.m.”

“When did you file for divorce? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did tell you.” I looked at him. “You walked away to take Claire’s call and didn’t hear me.”

He set down the summons, his voice much quieter than before.

“Emma, it doesn’t have to come to this. Withdraw the petition, and I’ll explain everything.”

My mother stood nearby and spoke quietly.

“Ryan, you should leave.”

He acted as though he had not heard her. His eyes remained fixed on me.

“Don’t let someone else talk you into this. Did Daniel help you file all of this? He’s an outsider. What could he possibly understand about our marriage?”

I picked up my purse from beside the door.

“He understands the law.”

Ryan reached for me.

I took half a step back.

“Ryan, whatever I felt for you is gone. Our divorce hearing is tomorrow at nine.”

He froze with his hand suspended between us.

“Emma…”

It was the first time in two days that he had called me Emma like that.

I opened the door.

“Get out.”

He looked at my mother and then at the documents on the table, as if he had finally realized this was not just another fight that would blow over.

Just before the door closed, he called after me hoarsely, “Honey.”

I shut the door.