After the divorce, Bradley smiled and said, “There’s nothing to divide.” I placed the penthouse keys on the table, pulled out two passports, and whispered, “You’re right. I won’t disturb your new life.” He laughed. But inside the car, a sealed folder was waiting for me. And once Bradley opened his next door… he would understand what he had really lost.
Then I closed the door.
Inside, my children were setting the table while Ethan pulled dinner from the oven.
On the counter sat a forwarded letter from Bradley.
I recognized his handwriting.
For a moment, I held it.
Then I dropped it unopened into the fireplace.
The paper curled, blackened, and turned to ash.
I did not need to read his ending.
I was too busy writing my own.
