Sign Here for Your Ghost

The plush leather chair in Sean's law office did nothing to ease the dull ache in my body—three days since the miscarriage, and the cramps still hadn't let up. Neither had the bleeding. My doctor had ordered bed rest, but Sean's lawyer had been crystal clear: today wasn't optional.

"Mrs. Harrington, sign here… and here." The lawyer's voice was sterile, impersonal, as he pushed the divorce papers across the gleaming mahogany table. His finger tapped each yellow tab like a metronome, counting down the seconds until this was over.

I couldn't bring myself to look at Sean. After ten years of marriage, I knew every flicker of emotion that crossed his face. Today, I didn't want to know which one he'd chosen—disdain, indifference, or worst of all, nothing at all.

Instead, my eyes landed on Natalie Benson, perched beside him like a vulture. Her crimson nails dug possessively into his forearm, her diamond bracelet glinting under the office lights. My bracelet. The one Sean had given me on our fifth anniversary.

"June." His voice cut through the silence—cold, detached, like we'd never been anything at all. "The faster you sign, the faster we can all move on."

The lawyer cleared his throat. "For the record, Mrs. Harrington, should you refuse to sign today, Mr. Harrington is prepared to challenge any custody arrangements for future children—"

"Future children?" The words tore out of me before I could stop them. My hand pressed against my stomach, still tender, still empty. "I just lost our baby."

Natalie's lips curled into a smile that never touched her eyes. "Well, that makes things easier, doesn't it?"