Pick A Number, He Said, I Picked Divorce Chapter 09

Pick A Number, He Said, I Picked Divorce Chapter 09

The day I left, my hands still carried the stench of the sewer water.
The cuts on my fingers burned with pain.

When I bought my ticket, I randomly picked the farthest, most unfamiliar coastal city I could find.

When I arrived at the station, the sky was already completely dark. I dragged my suitcase and stood at the exit. The people were strangers. The place was unfamiliar.

But that unfamiliarity didn’t frighten me.

Instead, it made me feel light.

I found a small B&B at random and checked in. The room was tiny, but warm and cozy. Outside the window was the sea.

I put down my luggage, sat on the edge of the bed, and stared blankly for a long time, until the night had fully settled in around me.

After I showered and lay down, my lower abdomen started tightening in waves. I curled up on the bed. My forehead was soon covered in cold sweat.

I forced myself out of bed, grabbed a coat, and went outside to buy medicine.

The moment I stepped out, my legs went weak. Everything went black before my eyes. Just as my whole body pitched forward, someone caught me.

I looked up. It was the older woman I’d seen briefly during check-in.

“Oh my, dear girl. How did you get to looking so awful?”

“Let me help you inside and get you a cup of hot water.”

As she spoke, she started guiding me straight into her place. I wanted to refuse, but I had almost no strength left.

She pressed me down onto the sofa, turned around, and poured a cup of hot water.

I took the cup and felt the warmth spreading through my fingers. The tip of my nose suddenly stung.

It had been so long since anyone had shown me this kind of care.

Not because of what I could do. Not because I was someone’s wife. Not because they expected anything in return.

She’d simply seen that I was struggling, reached out and steadied me, and poured me a cup of hot water.

This kind of kindness from a stranger—it’s what makes a person’s eyes redden the fastest.

The woman sat across from me, chattering away. She asked if I’d just arrived here, whether I was managing on my own, why I hadn’t called out for someone when I felt sick at night.

At first, I only nodded. But after a while, as I listened, my mind began to drift.

The way she talked—it was so much like my mother.

In the past, my mother was always like that too. She’d scold me with her words for not taking care of myself, yet with her hands, she’d always ladle the hottest soup into my bowl first.

Later, she died saving Silas.

And now, I couldn’t even protect her ashes.

Thinking of this, my fingertips trembled. I nearly couldn’t hold the cup steady.

The woman glanced at me and softened her voice.

“Dear girl, have you been wronged?”

I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out.

After a long silence, I finally said quietly, “It’s in the past now.”

She didn’t press further. She let out a gentle sigh.

“That’s good—it’s past. In this life, who hasn’t suffered a few wrongs?”

Then, as if remembering something, she went on.

“Oh, that’s right—tomorrow afternoon, across the street at the community center, there’s a flower-arranging class. It’s all girls around your age having fun. If you’ve got nothing going on, you should stop by.”

“Don’t always shut yourself up in your room alone. The more you stew inside, the harder it is for your body to get better.”

I had meant to refuse.

But looking at the concern in her eyes, the words on the tip of my tongue were swallowed back down.

“Okay.”

The next afternoon, I went.

I’d thought it would be awkward. But once I sat down, I realized everyone here was very easygoing.

Someone smiled and taught me how to trim the flower stems. Someone else complimented the color scheme I’d chosen. There was even a girl around my age who, the moment the class ended, pulled me out to go get bubble tea.

In the days that followed, I went out with them a few times.

We went to the beach to feel the wind, walking barefoot across the cool evening sand.

We went to the night market for street food, the smell of grilled skewers clinging to our clothes.

We ducked into a used bookstore, sat by the window for an entire afternoon, casually flipping through old books and slowly chatting about nothing in particular.

During those days, for the first time, I realized that living doesn’t mean orbiting around a single person.

The smiles were real smiles. The relaxation was real relaxation.

Until that evening, on the way back to the B&B, my phone suddenly buzzed once.

It was a message from my lawyer.

“Ms. Lancaster, the trial is tomorrow. Don’t forget to be there on time.”

“Okay.”

After replying, I put my phone away.

A sea breeze swept past me, as if carrying away the breath I’d been holding back all these days.

This day had finally come.

And this time, I was only going to move forward.