Chapter 120
James's POV:
I had some drinks that evening.
Driven by alcohol, I couldn't control myself. I had someone look up Sophia's new place and went to find her.
I hesitated outside her door for a while before ringing the doorbell, expecting to be shut out. But surprisingly, she actually came and opened the door.
I thought I could have a proper talk with her about the divorce.
She didn't invite me in or show any intention of having a real conversation.
Her attitude remained cold and firm—she was determined to divorce me.
After saying her piece, she shut the door right in my face. I stood at the door for a bit longer, then went downstairs and stared up at her floor.
Her lights were still on. She wasn't sleeping.
I just stood there smoking, looking up at her apartment, one cigarette after another. Before long, there was a pile of cigarette butts scattered at my feet.
That's when I saw Andrew. He went straight upstairs.
Didn't need to guess—he was definitely going to Sophia's place.
What were they doing in there?
It wasn't until the cigarette burned down and scorched my fingers that I snapped out of it, realizing I was acting like some kind of creep.
As I was about to leave, I saw a delivery guy running upstairs.
I felt inexplicably irritated.
I stopped and waited until the delivery guy came back down. I stopped him and asked, "What did you just deliver, and who was it for?"
"Condoms, for Ms. Brown on the third floor. What's wrong?"
My head felt like it had been stabbed with needles, a sharp pain shooting through instantly.
The delivery guy thought I was crazy, gave me a look, and hurried off.
I took a moment to collect myself, pulled out my phone, and sent Sophia a message.
[I agree to the divorce. I'll sign the divorce agreement tomorrow and send it to you. We can arrange another time to file with the court.]
I called Dane to pick me up. As I got in the car, I took one last look at Sophia's building.
Then sent another message wishing her and Andrew well.
This time it was really over.
Sophia's POV:
Andrew and I talked late into the night. The next day, I slept until eleven.
A delivery arrived, so I went to open the door to sign for it. The delivery person hadn't arrived yet, so I waited at the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a takeout bag—no idea what was inside.
Curious, I picked it up and opened it. Inside were condoms.
Who would pull such a stupid prank?
I took the bag and threw it in the building's trash bin, just as the delivery person showed up.
I glanced at the delivery info—it was from James. Must be the signed divorce agreement.
I opened the package and flipped through the contents. On the last page, I saw that familiar signature, and suddenly felt an emptiness inside.
Even though I'd mentally prepared myself, seeing that signature still hurt a little.
This terrible marriage was really ending just like that.
I picked up my phone and sent James a message:
[I got the divorce agreement. If you're free tomorrow at 10 a.m., let's meet at the court.]
He replied quickly: [Okay.]
A simple reply, nothing more.
I stared at that "okay" for a long time, then put my phone away.
That evening, Andrew came over.
"He signed?" he asked.
"He signed." I handed him the divorce agreement.
He looked through it and nodded.
"Want me to go with you tomorrow?" he asked.
"No need." I declined. "I can go by myself."
It wasn't like I was doing anything major that required someone to come along.
"Then after you're done with the paperwork, text me. I'll pick you up and take you out for something good to eat, to celebrate your return to single life."
Looking at his expectant eyes, I finally nodded: "Okay."
The next morning, I made a special effort with my appearance.
Put on nice makeup, and wear a new dress I'd just bought.
Looking at my refreshed reflection in the mirror, I took a deep breath.
After today, I'd truly be free.
At nine-thirty, I left and took a cab to the court.
There was some traffic. By the time I arrived, it was already 9:55.
James was already waiting there.
He was dressed very formally today—suit and tie, hair perfectly combed.
"You're here."
I nodded: "Let's go in."
The process of submitting the documents went smoothly.
When the staff asked about the reason for the divorce, I said incompatibility.
James glanced at me but said nothing.
After signing the last document, the staff said, "Starting from today, come back in one month for the hearing to get your divorce decree."
I acknowledged.
James and I walked out of the court.
"Sophia," James called out to me.
I stopped and turned to look at him.
"I'm sorry," he said.
I smiled: "Saying sorry now doesn't mean anything."
"Can we... still be friends?" he asked.
I thought about it and shook my head: "Better not, James. We can't and shouldn't be friends."
His eyes dimmed: "I understand."
I didn't say goodbye to him. With my back turned, I suddenly touched the ring on my finger: "I'll return this ring to you once I figure out how to get it off."
Since we were divorcing, everything needed to be settled clearly to avoid any lingering ties.
James: "What I gave you is yours. Do whatever you want with it."
"If you give it back to me, there's only one outcome—I'll throw it in the trash."
"I'm returning it to you, so it's yours. Do whatever you want with it." I didn't look at him again and closed the car door.
He looked at me, his lips moving, but ultimately said nothing.
When I went in to handle the paperwork, I'd already texted Andrew to come pick me up.
Andrew drove up and stopped in front of me: "Sophia, get in. Today's a good day—let me take you out for something delicious to celebrate."
I got in the car, and Andrew started driving.
"It's finally over." Looking at the scenery constantly receding outside the window, I murmured.
"Yes, it's over." Andrew picked up on my words. "From now on, you're truly free."
I rolled down the window, letting the wind blow on my face. It felt good.
After divorcing James, I had a few peaceful days.
Andrew came to see me almost every day, sometimes taking me to dinner, sometimes inviting me to movies.
I knew what he was thinking, but every time he tried to take things further, I'd find an excuse to avoid it.
"Andrew, I'm really not ready to start another relationship right now." After turning him down again, I said honestly.
He smiled, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, but quickly returned to his gentle demeanor: "It's okay, I can wait."
"Actually, you don't have to—"
"Sophia." He interrupted me. "I know you just ended a marriage and need time to recover. I won't pressure you, but please don't stop me from being good to you, okay?"
Looking at his sincere eyes, I couldn't bring myself to refuse.
I could only nod.
We hung out for a while, then headed home. He walked me to my door.
Andrew's expression showed a hint of hesitation. He leaned closer, then suddenly lowered his head and kissed my forehead.
I was a bit stunned, didn't have time to dodge.
"You bastard!"
Before I could react, Andrew got hit.