Chapter 3: After the Papers Are Signed
Kara and I signed the divorce papers fast.
It was almost clinical—the way we sat across from each other at the lawyer’s office, barely speaking. The pen felt heavy in my hand. When it was done, I felt lighter and heavier all at once. My hand shook as I handed over the papers.
Once it was all over, I sold the house and moved to another city, just to clear my head.
I packed up what little I cared about, left the rest behind. The drive out of town felt like a funeral procession. I didn’t look back. The city in the rearview mirror felt like another life.
With some savings and a few contacts, I landed on my feet in the new place.
I rented a small apartment on the edge of downtown. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. I bought a new coffee maker, hung some photos on the wall. Slowly, I started to build a new routine. The emptiness was both a curse and a relief.
One night after work, my coworkers invited me out for drinks.
We hit up a dive bar a few blocks from the office. Neon lights, sticky floors, the smell of cheap beer. It felt weirdly comforting, just blending in, being anonymous for a while.
A little buzzed, listening to them gripe about their own family messes, I couldn’t help thinking about Kara.
They traded stories—missed anniversaries, arguments over nothing, kids who wouldn’t listen. I laughed along, but inside, I was somewhere else. Kara’s face kept floating to the surface of my mind. I couldn’t shake her.
Maybe I should’ve seen it coming.
Hindsight’s a bitch. All the signs were there, if I’d bothered to look. But I wanted to believe we were different. I wanted to believe we were special.
Cheating doesn’t just happen out of nowhere. It creeps in, slow and quiet.
People drift. Walls go up, little by little. You stop talking, stop listening. One day you wake up and realize you’re living with a stranger. And you wonder when it all slipped away.













