Updated Feb 23, 2026 • ~6 min read
POV: Dominic
The divorce papers arrive by courier.
Official. Legal. Final.
I sit in the empty house—my house, not ours anymore—and read through them.
Irreconcilable differences.
No contest.
Clean break.
Celeste is letting me go.
I should feel relieved.
Instead, I just feel… hollow.
James comes over that evening.
Finds me sitting in the dark with the papers spread across the coffee table.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Define okay.”
He sits. Looks at the documents.
“She’s making this easy for you.”
“I know.”
“Most people would fight. Drag it out. Make you suffer.”
“She’s not most people.”
“No. She’s not.”
We sit in silence.
“Have you talked to Rory?” James asks.
“She won’t answer my calls.”
“Can you blame her?”
“No. But I need her to know—”
“That you’re sorry? That you choose her? That Celeste filed for divorce? Dom, she knows all that. What she doesn’t know is if she can trust you again.”
“How do I prove that I’m trustworthy?”
“Time. Consistency. Not giving up even when she pushes you away.”
“And if she never forgives me?”
“Then you live with the consequences of your choices.”
Brutal. But true.
The next day, I go to the courthouse.
File a response to Celeste’s petition.
Agree to all terms.
No contest. No assets fought over.
The house is mine—bought after her accident with my inheritance.
She kept the settlement from her accident.
We had no kids. No shared debts.
It’s the cleanest divorce possible.
The lawyer says six months.
But given the circumstances—the coma, the unusual situation—maybe sooner.
“And then what?” I ask.
“Then you’re legally free to remarry.”
Remarry.
To Rory.
If she’ll have me.
I drive to Priya’s apartment.
Rory’s staying there. Has been for two weeks.
I’ve tried to give her space.
But I need to tell her about the divorce.
Priya answers the door.
“She doesn’t want to see you.”
“I know. But I need to tell her something. It’s important.”
“Tell me. I’ll pass it on.”
“Celeste filed for divorce. I signed the papers. It’s over.”
Priya’s face softens slightly.
“Okay. I’ll tell her.”
“Can I please just—”
“No. She’s not ready, Dom. You broke her heart. Repeatedly. You kissed another woman. She lost your baby because of the stress. She needs time.”
“How much time?”
“As much as she needs. And if you really love her, you’ll give her that.”
The door closes.
I stand there feeling helpless.
That night, I get a text.
Unknown number.
Unknown: “It’s Celeste. I got a new phone. New number. Fresh start. I wanted you to know—I told Rory I’m sorry. For everything. I sent her a letter. I don’t know if she’ll read it, but I had to try.”
Me: “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Celeste: “Take care of yourself, Dom. And take care of her. If she gives you another chance.”
Me: “I will. I promise.”
Celeste: “Good. This is goodbye. For real this time. I need space. Real space. For a while.”
Me: “Goodbye, Celeste. I hope you find happiness.”
Celeste: “I hope you do too.”
The conversation ends.
And I realize: that’s the last time I’ll probably ever talk to her.
My first wife.
The woman I thought I’d spend forever with.
Gone.
Not dead this time.
Just… gone.
A week later, I see Celeste’s letter to Rory.
Rory left it at the house when she came to get more of her things.
(I wasn’t home. She made sure of that.)
The letter is open. She read it.
I shouldn’t read it too.
But I do.
Dear Rory,
I don’t expect you to forgive me. I’m not sure I’d forgive me either.
But I need you to know that I’m sorry. For the manipulation. For the kiss. For fighting for a man who wasn’t mine anymore. For causing you pain.
When I woke up, I thought I could get my life back. My husband. My marriage. My future. But I was wrong. That life is gone. Not because of you. Because of time.
Five years changed Dominic. Changed me. Changed everything.
And you… you’re not the villain in this story. I tried to make you one. To make it easier to hate you. But you’re just a woman who fell in love with a man who was free to be loved.
I’m filing for divorce. Not because I don’t love Dominic. But because he doesn’t love me. Not the way he loves you.
And I deserve someone who loves me the way he loves you.
So do you.
I hope you give him another chance. Not for his sake. For yours. Because watching the two of you together, even when I hated it, I could see something real. Something worth fighting for.
I’m sorry about the baby. I’m sorry about all of it.
I’m letting him go now. I hope you can hold on.
Celeste
I read it three times.
Crying by the end.
Because Celeste is a better person than I gave her credit for.
And Rory…
God, Rory deserved so much better than what I put her through.
I text her.
Me: “I saw the letter. I’m so sorry. For all of it. I know you need time. I’ll give you as much as you need. But please know—I love you. I choose you. I’ll always choose you. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
She doesn’t respond.
But she doesn’t block me either.
And that’s something.
Two weeks later, the court officially approves Celeste’s divorce petition.
Fast-tracked due to “extraordinary circumstances.”
I’m no longer married to Celeste.
Legally.
Officially.
I’m free.
But freedom doesn’t mean anything if I’m alone.
And without Rory?
I’m completely alone.
I drive by the school where she teaches.
Don’t go in.
Just sit in the parking lot.
Watch her walk to her car.
She looks tired.
Sad.
Beautiful.
I want to run to her.
Tell her I’m divorced.
Tell her we can start over.
Tell her everything.
But I don’t.
Because Priya’s right.
She needs time.
And if I love her—really love her—I’ll give her that.
Even if it kills me.
So I sit in my car.
Watch her drive away.
And pray that someday, she’ll come back to me.
END OF CHAPTER 23
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