The Divorce: Happy Birthday to Me

I reached under the coffee table and pulled out the divorce papers I had prepared. My gaze fell on my fingers, which were slightly deformed from countless hours in the lab.

I let out a carefree smile. I picked up my phone and called my mentor, Elias Vance.

"Dr. Vance, I was wondering if I still have a chance to get involved in that classified project you mentioned."

There was a brief pause on the other end, then a voice came through, brimming with excitement.

"Of course there is! But this research is strictly confidential. Once you commit, you'll have to stay for at least five years.

"Will your wife agree to that? Without you, the company you built together could take a serious hit."

I signed the divorce papers, my voice unwavering as I said, "Dr. Vance, I'm getting divorced."

A chorus of stunned gasps came through the line. To my surprise, they were from my lab mates.

"We've always known Keira was toxic. Liam, you lovesick fool! Now you finally see what a snake she really is," one of my seniors snapped.

"Come back to the team, Liam. Your old friends are all waiting for you," another added.

"Liam, don't let it get you down. Women just slow the pace of your research."

Elias pretended to scold them for their banter, and his tone grew serious as he spoke to me. "Liam, by order of Project 707, you are to return to the team immediately."

"You'll be departing in two days. Make sure your personal affairs are in order," Elias added.

After hanging up, I walked into the guest bedroom. I had never slept there before, but now I was convinced it was the only place in the house untouched by Keira's betrayal.

When I woke up the next day, it was already 1:00 pm. Three relentless months of intense research had frayed my mind, and for the first time in ages, I finally got some real sleep.

I unlocked my phone, and it buzzed to life with a flood of messages from every chat app, all congratulating me on the new drug's successful first phase.

Keira had gone wild in the group chats, tagging me nonstop and sending digital gift cards like confetti.

But as I scrolled through the flood of praise and flattery, not a spark of joy stirred in me.

I stayed in bed for a long time, lost in a haze of thoughts. Finally, I grabbed the divorce papers and dragged myself out of the room.

The living room was empty. Keira was nowhere in sight.

On the coffee table sat a ticket to a concert by my favorite singer, Tyler Combs. Next to it was a sticky note in her familiar handwriting.

"7:00 pm tonight. Be there or be square."

I recognized it as Keira's way of rewarding me.

After a moment's thought, I decided to attend the concert—not to salvage what we had, but to end it.

Seven years ago, Keira proposed to me in the middle of a packed concert crowd. The very next day, we rushed to the clerk's office to make it official.

Now here we were again at a concert. But this time, we were there to work out a divorce. The next day, we would go to the courthouse to file it.

It felt oddly fitting.

By 5:00 pm, I stuffed the divorce papers and the concert ticket into my bag. I threw on the first jacket I found and headed out.

I used to spend a long while getting ready for any date with Keira. It was a hassle, but I secretly enjoyed it.

But now, none of that mattered anymore.

I no longer had to wait on an empty stomach for her just so we could eat together. I could just grab something quick from the shops downstairs.

By the time I got to the concert venue, it was already 6:50 pm. I messaged Keira, but she didn't reply.

I shook my head. Instead of waiting outside for her like I always used to, I simply got in line and went in.

At that moment, a notification popped up on my screen. Jackson had tagged me in a new post.

The caption hit me hard. "No concert for me, but I've got the amusement park. Tonight's too beautiful to miss!"

The photo showed him holding a woman's hand high up on a Ferris wheel. Though her face wasn't in the shot, the familiar ring on her finger told me everything.

Keira wasn't coming.

It turned out the concert ticket was meant for another man.