James POV
James was deep in an email thread when she slid the papers across the table.
He barely registered the movement. His eyes were on his phone, scanning deal updates from the Singapore office. Three messages. All urgent. All needing his attention by 9 AM. He'd read the first one twice already and his mind was already working through the numbers.
The envelope landed next to his coffee cup.
"James."
He glanced up for a second. Grace was standing there in that blue robe thing. He'd noticed it vaguely when she walked into the kitchen but he hadn't really thought about it. Clothes were clothes. She looked fine. Everything about her was fine.
"One second," he said. He was already scrolling to the next email.
She sat down across from him. He could feel her waiting. Watching him. There was something in the air but he couldn't place it. He didn't try. The Singapore numbers were making sense now and he was starting to see how this could work.
Victoria texted him.
He smiled before he could stop himself. Victoria was talking about drinks this week. Catching up. She'd thrown in a winking emoji. It was harmless. It was just Victoria being Victoria. She understood his world because she lived in it. She didn't ask him to feel things or talk about feelings or whatever Grace seemed to want all the time.
Another message from Singapore came through.
Then another.
"James."
He looked up. Grace's voice sounded different. Smaller.
"What?"
"The papers."
Right. The papers. He reached over and pulled them out of the envelope without really looking at what they were. He read the top line. Divorce papers. Of course. He'd been expecting this in some way. Grace had been doing that thing she did lately. Looking sad. Trying to have conversations. Asking him about his day like his day was supposed to matter to her.
His phone buzzed again. Victoria had sent a photo. Her and some guy at a party. She looked good. They looked good together actually. They had a history. They understood each other's ambitions. There was no pressure with Victoria.
Grace was still waiting.
He looked at the papers again. The first page. Second page. He didn't read the words really. Just saw that they were official. Typed. Professional. Like every other business document that came across his desk.
Victoria sent another message. This one was longer. About a deal she'd heard about. A company in tech that was looking for investment. She wanted to grab coffee and talk about it.
James's mind shifted to that conversation. He was already thinking about the company. Already wondering if he should look into it. Already gone from this moment.
Grace hadn't moved. She was just sitting there. Waiting for him to do something. Say something. Feel something probably.
He picked up his pen.
The papers needed a signature. That was simple. Straightforward. Marriage ended. Life moved on. He'd signed contracts that were more complicated. He'd ended business deals with more fanfare than this.
He found the signature line.
"Are you serious right now?" Grace's voice cracked a little.
"What?" He was already writing his name. Clean letters. Professional. Done.
"You're not even going to read them?"
He handed the pen back to her. "It's just paperwork, Grace. We both know this isn't working."
He said it like he was explaining something simple. Like he was being logical about an obvious problem. No point dragging it out. No point pretending they could fix something that was never really broken because it was never really whole to begin with.
"We were together for three years." Her voice was shaking.
James didn't know what to say to that. Three years seemed like enough time. Seemed like plenty. They got married. They lived in this apartment. He went to work. She did whatever she did with her life. It was fine. It was fine until it wasn't and now they were here and it was time to move on.
His phone buzzed again.
"You're kidding me," Grace said.
He glanced at it. Victoria again. She was relentless when she wanted something. He actually liked that about her. She knew what she wanted and she went after it.
Grace stood up suddenly. The chair scraped against the floor loud enough to make him wince. She walked toward the bedroom like she was moving through water. Slow. Heavy.
"Grace, come on," he said. But he was already looking back at the Singapore emails. The 9 AM deadline was getting closer.
She came back with a bag. Like an overnight bag that women carry. He didn't ask where she was going. He figured she'd calm down. Go stay with a friend. Come back in a few days with a different attitude.
"Where are you going?" he asked anyway, trying to show interest. Trying to do the right thing.
"Singapore," she said.
"Okay." He nodded. That was fine. His sister was there or something. She could go stay with her sister. Get some space. Come back when she was ready to talk about this rationally.
Grace looked at him for a long time. Like she was memorizing his face. Like she was trying to understand something that didn't make sense.
"I have a plane ticket for tonight," she said.
"Alright. Have a safe flight."
She walked toward the door.
He was scrolling through another email. Singapore office. Market projections. Numbers that needed analysis. This was important. This was real.
"Grace," he said without looking up.
She stopped at the door. He could see her from the corner of his eye.
"Yeah?"
He tried to think of something to say. Something that would make this better or different or less strange. But there was nothing. They'd tried. It didn't work. That was just how some things went.
"Take care of yourself," he said.
She didn't respond.
He went back to his phone.
The door was still open. He could hear her in the hallway. Could hear her footsteps moving away. Could hear the elevator opening.
Then nothing.
Just silence and emails and Victoria texting him about coffee later this week.
James sat back in his chair and finally looked at where Grace had been sitting. The chair was empty. Her coffee was still on the table, untouched. Cold probably. He didn't check.
He turned his attention fully to the Singapore deal now. This was something that mattered. This was something real.
His phone buzzed. Victoria again.
He typed back: "Coffee sounds good. Let's talk about that company."
He hit send and ordered another coffee. Black. The way he liked it. The kitchen was quiet now. Peaceful actually. No one waiting for him to say the right thing. No one needing him to feel something he couldn't feel.
Just him and his work and a day that suddenly looked much simpler than it had an hour ago.
He didn't think about Grace's face when she watched him sign those papers.
He didn't think about how she'd stood there like he'd taken something essential from her.
He didn't think about the way she said his name like a question. Like she was asking who he was and why he didn't recognize her anymore.
He didn't think about any of that.
He just opened his laptop and pulled up the Singapore files.
This was what he was good at. Numbers. Strategy. Making deals happen. This was what made sense.
Hours later, when he realized Grace had left him for good, he still wouldn't understand why that mattered.
He wouldn't realize that on her way to the airport, Grace was sitting in a bathroom stall with two pink lines on a stick.
He wouldn't know that the woman leaving his life was carrying his child.
And by the time he found out, it would be too late to fix it.
The divorce papers sat on the kitchen counter, signed.
The coffee had gone cold.
And in Singapore, a woman he'd decided didn't matter was already building something he could never understand.