Chapter 42 Chapter 42.

Chapter 42 Chapter 42.
Jane's POV.

Work blazed through in a blur. I stood outside the court waiting for a taxi when I heard the rumors, low whispers and murmurs in the air.

That's her.

Can't believe she and her husband are actually divorced.

Such a shame, she doesn't know what she's lost yet.

Who the hell divorces someone like Adrian?

Poor man, he fell for the wrong woman.

What could be the reason behind their separation?

Who asked for the divorce?

I exhaled, shaking my head, a scoff almost escaping my lips.

Soon my booked taxi arrived. Ignoring the gossips, I entered the taxi, and we were off.

The city moved past me in a blur of motion and noise, but my mind stayed stuck on the whispers I had just left behind.

Poor man…

I let out a quiet scoff, resting my head lightly against the window.

"Poor man," I muttered under my breath. "How amusing."

If only they knew. If only they had lived even a single day in my shoes.

The taxi turned into a quieter street, lined with neat buildings and trimmed hedges. It was calmer here, distant from the chaos, distant from the noise, exactly what I needed.

"Ma’am, we’re here," the driver announced.

I blinked, pulling myself out of my thoughts. "Thank you."

Stepping out, I took a moment to look at the building in front of me.

It wasn’t extravagant. No towering gates, no excessive luxury screaming wealth. Just a modest, well-kept apartment complex. Simple, peaceful, and mine.

A small breath escaped my lips as something unfamiliar settled in my chest. Relief… maybe, or fear. I couldn’t tell which.

I walked in, heels clicking softly against the tiled floor, and approached the front desk where a middle-aged woman sat, flipping through some documents.

"Good afternoon," I greeted.

She looked up, offering a polite smile. "Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"I’m here about the apartment listing," I said. "Two-bedroom, third floor."

Her expression brightened slightly. "Ah, yes. You called earlier."

I nodded.

She stood up, picking up a set of keys. "Right this way."

We walked in silence, up a flight of stairs and down a quiet hallway. The air smelled faintly of fresh paint.

She stopped in front of a door and unlocked it. "This is it."

The door opened, and I stepped inside. My eyes moved slowly around the space. It was… empty.

Bare walls, clean floors, large windows letting in soft daylight, a small balcony just beyond the living area. No memories, no shadows, no him.

My chest tightened unexpectedly. For a moment, just a moment, I saw flashes of another place. A larger room, warmer, familiar... his voice, his presence, his chaos.

I blinked, forcing the images away.

No. This… this is what I wanted— freedom.

I walked further in, my fingers brushing lightly against the wall as if grounding myself.

"It’s quiet," I said.

"Yes," the woman replied. "Most of the tenants here prefer privacy."

Perfect.

I stepped onto the balcony, letting the soft breeze brush against my face. No tension, no expectations, no walking on eggshells, just… silence.

But why did it feel so loud?

"Would you like to proceed with the rent?" the woman’s voice came from behind me.

I paused, turning to face her.

It was just one word, one decision, and everything becomes real, no turning back.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides. "Yes," I finally said.

Because if I didn’t move forward now… I might turn back.

The woman smiled, almost as if she understood the weight behind my decision. "Alright then. Let’s get the paperwork sorted."

We stepped back into the living area where she placed a file on the small counter that separated the kitchen from the sitting space. Papers slid out neatly, organized, ready... waiting.

"Kindly go through this," she said, handing me a pen which I took.

My eyes scanned the documents, but the words barely registered at first. Terms, conditions, duration, policies… they all blurred together until I forced myself to focus.

This wasn’t just paperwork, this was a step... a line drawn, a life rewritten.

I exhaled slowly, then signed, a few times. The final signature felt different, it felt final.

"Alright," she said, collecting the papers with a satisfied nod. "Payment can be made now."

I reached into my bag, bringing out my card. Within minutes, the transaction was completed. A soft beep confirmed it.

She handed me a printed receipt along with a small set of keys attached to a simple metal ring. "This is yours now," she said warmly.

I stared at the keys resting in my palm. They didn’t look like much, but they meant everything. A new place, a new beginning, a new me.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

She nodded, then began explaining, "Water runs twenty-four hours, but we advise moderate usage. Electricity is prepaid, you can recharge downstairs. Waste disposal is every morning by eight. And…" she paused, offering a small smile, "we value peace here. No unnecessary disturbances."

I almost let out a dry laugh. Peace, that was exactly what I had come here for.

"I understand," I replied.

"If you need anything, the office is open from nine to five," she added. "And security is available round the clock."

I nodded again.

She took a step back, looking around the apartment as if seeing it differently now. "Welcome," she said finally, her tone softer this time, more genuine. "Welcome to your new home."

Home, the word echoed strangely in my chest.

Before I could respond, she gave me a polite nod and walked out, the door clicking softly shut behind her, and just like that I was alone.

The silence stretched. It wasn’t the kind of silence I was used to. It wasn’t heavy or suffocating. It was… open.

I walked slowly toward the long window, my steps quieter now, almost cautious. Standing before it, I looked out.

The view wasn’t grand, but it was beautiful in its own way. A few trees lined the street, their leaves swaying gently with the breeze. Cars passed occasionally. People walked by, living their lives, unaware of the storm that had just passed through mine.

I rested my hand lightly against the glass. For the first time in a long time, everything felt still. No arguments, no tension, no expectations pressing down on my shoulders. It was just me, and yet my chest tightened. A faint ache settled deep within me, quiet but persistent.

Why?

This was what I wanted, wasn’t it?

I wanted freedom, space, peace so why did it feel like I had lost something too?

My fingers curled slightly against the glass, memories came uninvited. His voice, his presence, the chaos he carried with him everywhere he went.

I shut my eyes briefly. "No," I whispered to myself.

This was the right decision. It had always been the right decision.

I opened my eyes again, staring out at the world beyond the glass. Everything felt different.

A new life didn’t come with instructions. It didn’t tell you how to feel. It didn’t tell you what to hold onto or what to let go of. It simply began.

I glanced down at the keys still in my hand, and a small breath left my lips.

"This is it," I murmured.

No matter how uncertain this path looks, it's mine, and this time, I'm choosing it.