Lastly, tonight's photo of him holding her by the waist, their foreheads practically touching.
“These were just games, too?” I asked, voice calm but sharp. “Or is it our marriage that’s the game to you?”
Louie's POV
Instantly, Tracy’s expression changed. “You’ve been spying on me?”
“No,” I said calmly. “I’ve just stopped pretending not to see.”
She stared at me, her eyes blazing with fury, and exclaimed, “Fine! Don’t come crawling back later!”
She then grabbed her phone and quickly dialed a number.
“Harry, can you come pick me up?”
Her voice trembled, filled with fake vulnerability, as she asked that.
On the other end, I could hear Harry’s concerned voice asking if she was okay.
Tracy looked at me with a smug, defiant gaze while saying, “Louie, you still have time to change your mind.”
Yet I didn’t say a word. I turned and walked into the study, shutting the door behind me with a heavy thud.
Inside, I lit a cigarette and took a long drag.
Outside the window, the night was still and dark. Every so often, headlights from passing cars cut through the silence.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.
Then I heard Tracy rush to open the door, followed by Harry’s soft voice.
“Tracy, are you okay?”
Despite that, I didn’t get up. I just sat there, alone in the study, until I heard the front door close again.
The house instantly fell silent, completely still except for the steady ticking of the clock.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. Tracy messaged me.
[You pushed me to this, Louie.]
[Now, we’re done!]
Having read that, I didn’t respond. I tossed the phone aside, picked up my pen, and added a few more lines about the division of assets to the divorce agreement.
If we were ending it, then let’s end it properly.
When I finished, I sat back and stared out the window, memories flooding in.
It had been seven years since that summer night when I first met Tracy at a friend’s party.
She was sitting quietly in the corner, listening to music, completely out of place in the noisy crowd.
I handed her a glass of lemon water, and she looked up at me. Her eyes were so clear that it felt like they could reflect the entire night sky.
“Thanks,” she said.
As she took the glass, her fingers brushed the back of my hand, and I felt like electricity shot through me.
After that night, we started talking regularly.