Jules Pov:
The world spun like it was stuck in orbit, and Adam's words echoed in my skull, bouncing around until they took root and grew thorns.
He never loved me.
I felt the tears swelling behind my eyes, hot and thick, threatening to break through. My body trembled, a denial written in every shudder. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be happening.
"You don't mean that, Adam," I whispered, my voice cracking like glass under pressure. "We can fix this. We just need to talk."
But his eyes, those eyes that once held me together, now burned cold, distant. "There's nothing to fix, Jules. I never loved you. You were just a game, a way to escape my own life." His grip tightened on my shoulders, his fingers digging in, anger becoming something tangible, something sharp and cutting.
"No," I gasped, feeling the word twist in my throat, desperate. "We've had so many moments, so many laughs... we can't just throw it all away." My voice rose, clinging to the remnants of our shattered love like a shipwrecked sailor grasping at debris in a storm.
Memories flickered, electric and painful — stolen kisses beneath exploding fireworks, whispered secrets under star-filled skies, the simple perfection of his hand in mine.
How could none of it have mattered?
"Memories?" He spat the word like it was something filthy, his face twisting into a cruel mask. "All I remember is your need. Your endless, cloying need. You suffocated me, Jules. You pretend to be so perfect, but you're a liar. A leech, latching onto my life. God, I wish I'd never met you."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath caught, a sob clawed its way up my throat, choked by a tidal wave of fear. Who was this man? Where was the Adam who'd held me close, who whispered promises of forever in the dark? The man who built a future with me, brick by hopeful brick?
"I hate you, Jules," he hissed, venom in every syllable. "I hate the day I got drunk and married you. I hate how you've wormed your way into every inch of my life. You lie about everything... I wish to God I'd never met you."
His grip slackened, and I collapsed back into the chair. The room swirled around me, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm, a drumbeat of despair against my ribs. The world splintered into pieces, and I didn't even know which fragments were worth saving.
Part of me screamed in protest, reaching for the Adam I thought I knew. But another part, cold and unyielding, whispered back: It was all a lie. A tear escaped, tracing a slow, icy path down my cheek.
The air between us crackled, tense and charged. "I never lied to you," I shouted, but my voice broke, small and hoarse.
"You're such a liar, Jules! You lied about Harry!" His green eyes were narrow slits, brimming with anger.
"No, I didn't! There was nothing between us!" I pleaded, my words tripping over themselves, the truth tangling in my throat.
"Oh yeah? What about Trey? You were so in love with him before me. You always wanted out of Fairview. I just didn't realize how desperate you were to ditch that tiny, suffocating farm life. So desperate you'd marry the first guy offering a ticket out and a good fuck. You used me, Jules. I was just another way out, another game for you to play." His sneer deepened. "No wonder you never wanted me to quit my job. You didn't want me covered in dirt, didn't want me to be another of your little country toys."
Silence crashed over us, heavy and suffocating. I stared at the man I'd once sworn to love until death.
Yes, I'd wanted to leave Fairview, but not for some gleaming fantasy of city lights and cobblestone streets. It was about leaving the ghosts behind — my parents, my brother, gone too soon, my little sister lost to the cold, dark lake that swallowed her whole. I stayed for Nana, and for him. To hear Adam twist it all into something cheap and cynical...
I wanted to escape the ghosts, to find new air to breathe, away from the town that wore my family's deaths like a cloak. Every street, every store, every face reminded me of the people I'd lost. I wanted to build a new life. I wanted to build it with you, Adam.
"You think so little of me," I whispered, feeling the hollowness spread through my chest like a storm cloud. My father's stubbornness flared in me, a defiant flame in the wind.
Adam's eyes flickered, something unreadable flashing behind them before they hardened again. "It's not what I think, Jules. It's what I know."
Silence.
"I want a divorce," I said, the words coming out of me like a reflex, a muscle memory of survival. Running was all I'd ever known, and now it was the only thing I craved. If he didn't want me, I was a fool to think anything could change, not my pleading, not even the news I carried inside me.
I had driven all this way to tell him, driven on the rush of adrenaline and hope, on the news I never expected to hear. I'd found out two days ago; Doctor Mayer had smiled and handed me the ultrasound, showing me the size of a little grape, my little miracle. I wanted to tell him in person. To tell him we were going to be a family. But instead, I found him in bed with a blonde.
He cheated on me... I had been so wrong, and now here I was, still begging him to choose me. But I had someone else to think about now. Someone who needed me more than he ever did.
He never wanted me. He won't want our baby.
"I want a divorce," I repeated, stronger now, more certain. "If you don't want me, I'll give you back your freedom, Adam Casey. I won't contest anything. I won't ask for anything. I'll leave, and you'll never have to deal with me again. Divorce me."
Please, Adam. Please don't say yes... tell me you love me.
His face flickered — surprise, sadness, maybe something else. Then his expression flattened into a mask of indifference, the final nail in the coffin of our love.
"Okay, Jules," he said, turning away from me. "Okay. I'll have my lawyer send the papers."
Silence echoed in the apartment, sterile and cold. I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, even though my tears blurred the world. "Good," I choked out, the words thick in my throat. My heart already ached for the life we were losing, the one I had imagined filled with laughter lines and shared dreams.
I reached for the doorknob, hesitated, and glanced back. Adam stood still, a stranger in the familiar shell of the man I once loved. A million words battled in my chest, desperate to escape. This was it — no, this was definitely it. The last time I'd ever see him.
"Adam," I croaked, barely a whisper.
"What, Jules?" His voice was flat, devoid of any of the warmth it used to hold for me.
I drew a shaky breath and forced the words out, each one a shard of glass slicing through me.
No words left unsaid, Jules. No words left unsaid.
"I need you to know... I've always loved you. From the moment we met, it felt like coming home. I meant every word I said at the altar. 'Til death do us part' — I meant every smile, every look, every kiss. Everything. But if you don't want me anymore..." My voice hitched, the lump in my throat growing bigger, choking. "If you want me gone, I'll go. Because I love you that much."
A heavy silence descended, thick like fog, impossible to see through. This was my final plea. I wanted a second chance, even knowing it was foolish. I just needed to hear it from him one more time, that he really did want me gone.
Please, Adam... Please.
"Go," he said at last, his words sharp and final.
The air left my lungs, my heart shattered into a million pieces, but somewhere in the wreckage, a strange clarity emerged. At least now I knew. I wouldn't cling to something that was never mine.
"Okay," I whispered. "Goodbye, Adam. Forever."
Leaving wasn't easy. The twelve-hour drive I'd made with frantic hope and excitement now felt like a lifetime ago. We had been married just a short time when he was called back to the city for work. He had promised to quit, to move in with me. I didn't want that; his job at the museum was his passion, his connection to his mother. It was the only reason I ever told him not to quit.
Tears streamed down my face as I drove, the cityscape blurring into streaks of light. And it hit me, sudden and cold: what now? What do I do with a baby on the way and a marriage that's ended?
I am...alone.
