Divorce and Final Goodbye

The maître d' at Le Ciel led us to a prominent table by the window—exactly where I knew Arielle had requested. Sebastian sat across from me, his attention already drifting to the entrance. I smoothed my napkin nervously, my fingers trembling slightly as I reached for my water glass.

"You look beautiful tonight," I said quietly, trying to bridge the chasm between us.

Sebastian's eyes flickered to me with detached curiosity. "You've lost weight."

Before I could respond, the restaurant's doors swung open, and Arielle glided in wearing a crimson dress—the exact design of my favorite silk gown that hung forgotten in our closet. The red fabric clung to her curves, a deliberate provocation that made my stomach clench.

"Darling," she cooed, sliding into the seat beside Sebastian without acknowledging my presence. "You look absolutely delicious."

I watched as she fed him a bite of chocolate dessert, her fingers lingering at his lips. The flash of cameras outside the window confirmed what I already suspected—this was all orchestrated for maximum humiliation.

"Isn't this romantic?" Arielle murmured, leaning into Sebastian's shoulder. "Just the three of us."

---

The next morning, my phone rang shrilly, jolting me from a fitful sleep. I fumbled for it, my heart racing at the unfamiliar number.

"Hello?"

"Sophie Hansen?" A woman's voice, crisp and professional. "I'm calling from Elite Gossip Weekly. We're running a feature on Sebastian Green's new relationship."

"I... I don't have any comment," I stammered, my fingers clutching the phone tighter.

"Oh, we already have plenty of material," she replied cheerfully. "The photos from last night's dinner are exquisite. Sebastian looks absolutely smitten."

My free hand found my wedding ring, twisting it anxiously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The headline reads 'Sebastian's New Love: Red-Hot Romance Catches Fire,'" she continued. "We've got him feeding her dessert, whispering in her ear—it's all very intimate."

The phone slipped from my hand as bile rose in my throat. When I recovered enough to pick it up again, the call had ended. A text message appeared almost immediately:

*He moaned my name all night, Sophie. You should have heard how he begged for more.*

---

"Sebastian's been kidnapped! You need to come alone!"

The voice on the phone was muffled, urgent. My heart stopped.

"Who is this? Where is he?"

"An abandoned warehouse on River Street. Come now or he dies."

Despite everything—the cruelty, the betrayal—I grabbed my keys and ran. The warehouse loomed dark and cavernous, its windows broken, graffiti covering its exterior walls.

"Sebastian?" I called, my voice echoing in the emptiness. "Sebastian!"

My footsteps echoed as I moved deeper into the building, calling his name with increasing desperation.

"Please," I whispered to the darkness. "Please be okay."

A light flickered on at the far end of the warehouse. Sebastian stepped out of the shadows, his arm around Arielle's waist. Both of them were laughing.

"Did you really think I'd be stupid enough to fall for that?" Sebastian asked coldly.

Arielle raised her phone, filming my reaction. "Priceless," she murmured.

"This was a test," Sebastian explained, his voice devoid of emotion. "To see if you still cared enough to come running when I called."

"I don't understand," I whispered, tears blurring my vision.

"Clearly," he replied, his eyes hard. "Now get out."

---

Rain pelted the windshield as I fled the warehouse, tears mixing with raindrops on the glass. My hands shook violently as I gripped the steering wheel.

"I can't do this anymore," I sobbed aloud, barely able to see through my tears.

The car hydroplaned on the wet pavement, spinning wildly before crashing into a tree with a sickening crunch of metal. Glass shattered around me as darkness crept in from the edges of my vision.

When I came to briefly, paramedics were lifting me onto a stretcher. Blood matted my hair, trickling down my temple.

"Severe head trauma," someone said above me.

The ambulance siren wailed as we raced through the streets. Through blurred vision, I saw Sebastian and Arielle following in his black SUV, their faces tense as they argued in the front seat.

At the hospital, chaos erupted as doctors rushed me into emergency surgery. Through the haze of pain medication, I heard Sebastian's voice in the hallway.

"How is she?" A nurse asked.

"Fine," Sebastian replied dismissively. "Just a few scratches from the broken glass."

"That's not—" the nurse began, but Sebastian cut her off.

"Where's Arielle? She hit her head on the dashboard."

I slipped into unconsciousness as the doctor's voice faded into background noise: "Traumatic brain injury... possible permanent damage..."

When I woke again, Sebastian sat in the waiting room, holding Arielle's hand as she dabbed at a small cut on her forehead. Neither of them had asked about my condition.