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Countdown to the End of Us

In the modern novel Countdown to the End of Us, a marriage built on deception reaches its breaking point. While his wife lied ninety-nine times promising to forget her first love, the husband offers only one lie to finalize their separation. As the divorce cooling-off period expires, he systematically erases his presence by packing his life, destroying shared photos, and presenting the final papers. Her sudden desperation comes too late to stop his departure.
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Chapter 4

Congratulations

I had no idea what had gotten into her lately, but I could not care less. Slowly, subtly, I was moving my stuff out of the house.

I hoped she would not notice, but she did.

One day, after the meeting, she called me to her office. The moment I sat down, she asked, "I saw you moving a lot of stuff out. I don't see you coming home either. Why?"

I nodded. I had an excuse ready for this situation. "Yeah, I'm moving back to our old home."

A look of hesitation crept onto her face. "I've been thinking about the wedding. We can hold it…"

I interrupted her, "No, thanks. We don't have enough time."

Surprised, she asked, "What do you mean, we don't have enough time?"

That made me think. I wondered if I should show her the divorce papers. Fortunately, a call from Felix helped me get out of the situation. I noticed the name on her screen, and I smiled.

"Get to work. We're not in a hurry to arrange the wedding."

Lauren left the office, but as a token of apology, she turned around. Solemnly, she promised, "I'll see you at the old home tomorrow."

She did not. I was on the couch at the old home, scrolling through my phone.

T-minus, 12 hours.

My news app showed me some local news. Felix showed himself at a new project, and Lauren was standing right behind him.

That reminded me of her promise yesterday, and I laughed at myself. I wondered whether she would still break her word if she knew she only had 12 hours left with me.

Maybe she would. Maybe she would not. The answer did not matter.

I spent a few hours cleaning up the house. There wasn't much I could call my own here. The house was practically empty. I was only nostalgic about the place because we got married here.

I called my partner. Even though I told them about my departure, I still had to say goodbye. Then, I called my attorney. "The papers were notarized a month ago. I trust there's no more paperwork I have to go through?"

"That is all," said the lawyer. A moment of calm later, he added, "Congratulations, Mr. Dyson."

I smiled and hung up. Then in silence, I waited until nightfall.

T-minus, three hours.

I packed up all my stuff and booked a flight ticket for the next day.

T-minus, two hours.

I cut up all the photos that had me and her in it, leaving only me in the picture.

T-minus, one hour.

I placed the papers on the table, neat and tidy.

I was going to leave a message for her, but I did not go through with it. Instead, I said it in my mind, 'Hey honey, this is the last time I'm calling you that, I guess. I spent ten years in love with you. It's really hard doing that, I know, but I'm giving up anyway. Congratulations, to both you and me.'

I grabbed my suitcase. The moment the countdown was over, I put my hand on the doorknob.

This was it. My marriage was done.

And then someone opened the door from the outside. Lauren. Her forehead was covered in sweat. She probably did some exercise. The woman was breathing heavily, and the smile on her face was covered in guilt.

"Sorry, Sam. I just sent someone home—"

Then, she saw the suitcase and flight ticket. "Where are you going?"

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