The Rose Wilted, The Marriage Followed Chapter 10

The Rose Wilted, The Marriage Followed Chapter 10

Arthur was already waiting outside the family court clerk’s office when I arrived.

Dark gray coat. No flowers. No thermal bag.

Just a document folder.

He started toward me when I got out of the car. Then stopped.

“How’s your mom doing?”

“She’s doing well.”

“Good.”

He nodded.

We walked in together.

The judge reviewed the paperwork, then asked the final question.

“Do both parties confirm that they wish to proceed with the divorce?”

Arthur didn’t answer right away.

His hands were hidden under the table. I could see his knuckles going white.

I looked at him.

He briefly closed his eyes.

“Confirmed.”

The heavy stamp of the court seal came down. Barely a sound.

But it cut through three years cleanly.

Outside, the sky was wide open. Not a cloud.

Arthur handed a document folder to me.

“The final financial settlement is in there. I added extra for your mom’s rehab. It’s all taken care of.”

I didn’t take it.

“Just follow the agreement.”

“Eleanor.”

His voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

“Let me do this one last thing.”

I looked at that document folder.

In the end, I still took it.

It wasn’t forgiveness.

There was no point in passing it back and forth until we ruined even the last decent thing between us.

Arthur exhaled.

He took the small box out of his pocket.

The white rose brooch. Still there.

“This… if you don’t want it, I’ll get rid of it.”

I looked at it for a moment.

“Donate it.”

He looked up.

“What?”

“A hospital charity auction. A patient fund. I don’t care.”

I pushed the box back.

“It doesn’t need to belong to anyone anymore.”

Arthur’s eyes slowly filled with tears.

“Eleanor, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. That night at the restaurant, I drove by. I saw the flowers on the table. I saw you sitting there alone.”

My fingers paused slightly.

He gave a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh.

“Clara called. Said she was at the hospital, couldn’t stop crying, couldn’t breathe. And I thought you’d understand. You always did. I could make it up to you later.”

He swallowed hard.

“My mistake was thinking you’d never leave.”

I didn’t say anything.

A few months ago, those words would have wrecked me.

Now there was only the stillness that came after everything had already fallen apart.

“Arthur.”

He looked at me.

“Don’t ever mistake someone’s patience for permission to take them for granted.”

He nodded, and tears finally fell.

“Okay.”

I turned and walked to the curb.

The wind came around the corner, still carrying the last of winter’s bite.

My phone vibrated once.

Julian sent a message.

[Your mom walked twenty extra steps in rehab today. Her words: “Tell Eleanor not to worry.”]

I sent back: [Okay.]

Then I added one more line.

[I’ll be back in Southbridge this afternoon.]

Before I got in the car, I looked back.

Arthur was still standing outside the clerk’s office.

His head was bowed. He opened the box, stared at it for a long time, then closed it slowly.

Later, I heard he donated the brooch to the hospital’s patient fund.

On the day of the auction, he stood in the back and watched it sell.

Clara was dismissed from the foundation for the misconduct and the funding irregularities. After she left North Crest, no one heard from her again.

Arthur is still the youngest chief of cardiothoracic surgery in North Crest’s history.

There just aren’t any white roses in his office anymore.

On the train back to Southbridge, my mom sent me a photo.

The little plant on her windowsill was blooming.

It wasn’t a rose.

Just a daisy. Simple and ordinary.

Its petals were small, turned toward the sunlight.

I looked at it and smiled.

The train crossed a long bridge. Below, the water caught the light and scattered it in every direction.

I tucked the divorce papers into the bottom of my bag, pulled out my laptop, and opened the application file for a new project.

Outside the window, spring was just beginning.

This time, no one was late.