Chapter 13 - THE DAY I FINALLY CHOSE FOR MYSELF
The divorce papers sat unsigned on my desk for seventeen days.
Not because I wanted Adrian back.
Not because I wanted him gone.
Because for the first time in years, the decision belonged entirely to me.
That distinction mattered.
I spoke to Rebecca.
I spoke to Professor Hale.
I spoke to no one else.
Sophia called once.
“You don’t have to forgive him just because he changed.”
“I know.”
“And you don’t have to punish him forever just because he hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
“You’re extremely irritating.”
“I learned from you.”
We had become friends somehow.
Life is strange.
Then Margaret Moretti invited me to dinner.
I almost refused.
Instead, I went.
Adrian wasn’t there.
Margaret cooked badly.
Elena ordered pizza secretly.
Daniel arrived carrying wine.
For the first time, the Moretti family felt less like a dynasty and more like exhausted human beings.
Margaret asked me one question.
“Do you still love my son?”
Everyone became silent.
I could have lied.
“Yes.”
Margaret nodded.
“That doesn’t answer whether you should stay married.”
Exactly.
Love had never been the only question.
Could I trust him?
Could I be myself beside him?
Could Adrian love a woman whose world did not revolve around him?
Could I forgive without disappearing again?
One week later, Adrian testified in federal court.
He admitted falsifying the old records.
No excuses.
No blaming Carlo.
He described exactly what he had done.
His business reputation took a beating.
Stocks dipped.
Newspapers called him disgraced.
He did not issue a defensive statement.
That surprised me most.
The Adrian I married would have spent millions controlling the narrative.
This Adrian accepted it.
After court, reporters crowded him.
One shouted:
“Did your wife leave because of the scandal?”
Adrian stopped.
I watched the clip online later.
“No,” he said.
“She left because I failed her long before the scandal.”
Then he walked away.
I cried.
I hated that too.
Three nights later, I signed the divorce papers.
My hand shook.
I mailed them to Rebecca.
Then I sat alone in my kitchen until midnight.
The next morning, I felt awful.
And peaceful.
Both could be true.
Adrian called after the decree became final.
“I got the notice.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
He breathed out.
“Does this mean I should stop hoping?”
I looked through my window.
Morning sunlight covered the hills.
“It means you should stop waiting for the old marriage.”
Another silence.
Then:
“Is there another kind?”
I closed my eyes.
“I don’t know.”
And for once, Adrian did not push.
“Okay.”
Six months later, Project Orion hosted its first major public lecture.
I stood backstage while hundreds of people filled the auditorium.
Thomas adjusted my microphone.
“You nervous?”
“Terrified.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“Means you care.”
I stepped onto the stage.
Applause rose.
In the third row, I saw Sophia.
Elena.
Margaret.
Daniel.
Then Adrian.
He sat at the aisle.
He had not told me he was coming.
He did not wave.
He simply smiled.
I gave the lecture of my life.
Afterward, Adrian waited outside.
“Coffee?” he asked.
I stared at him.
“Are you asking your ex-wife on a date?”
“Yes.”
“That seems reckless.”
“I’ve been told I have a history.”
I laughed.
Then said:
“One coffee.”
His smile was different now.
Not victorious.
Grateful.
We walked toward the café.
Halfway there, my phone rang.
Professor Hale.
“Claire, come back.”
“What happened?”
His voice shook.
“The new telescope array just confirmed another event.”
“Like ours?”
“No.”
My heart raced.
“Then what?”
Thomas whispered:
“It’s repeating.”
I stopped walking.
Adrian looked at me.
“What?”
I was already turning back toward the lab.
“I have to go.”
His old self might have looked disappointed.
Instead he smiled.
“Go.”
May you like
I ran.
And behind me, Adrian did not ask me to choose him.
