The 100th Divorce Paper

Nora Sinclair and Sebastian Blackwood had filed for divorce ninety-nine times.

Every single time, Sebastian would wait silently during the cooling-off period, confident she would come crawling back. She would plead, and only then would he agree to withdraw the papers.

But on the hundredth filing, as Nora stood to leave, the clerk behind the desk couldn’t resist asking, "So, when are you coming back to cancel it this time?"

Nora glanced at Sebastian’s retreating figure—cold, indifferent—and steeled herself.

Not this time.

When the thirty-day waiting period ended, it would finally be over.

The wind outside the courthouse was sharp, biting into her skin. Nora stepped onto the sidewalk just in time to see Sebastian slide into his sleek black Bentley without so much as a backward glance.

She walked slowly, the hollow ache in her chest widening with every step. The cold seeped in, filling the cracks of her shattered resolve.

Then—screeching tires.

Before she could react, a hard shove sent her sprawling onto the pavement. Her knees burned, her palms stinging as they scraped against the concrete.

Through the tangle of her hair, she recognized Sebastian’s friends stumbling out of the car.

"Shit! We just hit Mrs. Blackwood!"

"Don’t call her that," someone muttered. "They’re divorcing. Sebastian hasn’t called it off yet."

Nora pushed herself up, legs trembling. Her gaze flickered to the Bentley’s half-lowered window, where Sebastian’s sharp profile was barely visible in the shadows.

One of the guys hesitated. "Should we take her to the hospital or just head to the club?"

A beat of silence. Nora’s breath hitched as she waited, her heart pounding.

"To the club." Sebastian’s voice was ice.

Those three words cut deeper than any blade.

The car roared away, exhaust fumes choking her.

Clenching her jaw, Nora forced herself to stand. She limped home, every step a fresh agony—but nothing compared to the raw, gaping wound in her chest.

The moment she stepped inside, she began packing.

She tore through their shared space, yanking out every remnant of their years together.

The diamond bracelet he’d tossed at her after a fight. The silver cufflinks she’d stolen from his dresser. The jar of a thousand handwritten notes she’d left for him over the years.

One by one, she dumped them into the trash. Then, from the depths of her drawer, she pulled out a faded envelope.

Her hands shook as she unfolded the letters inside—letters she’d found by accident, hidden in Sebastian’s safe.

"You brought coffee to my office again today. You didn’t see me watching from the window as you left."

"That blue dress you wore last night—I wish I’d been the only one to see you in it."

"Three years of you chasing me. I almost gave in last week. But I wanted to see how far you’d go."

Each line was a knife to her ribs.

If she hadn’t stumbled upon these letters, she would never have believed that Sebastian—always so cold, so detached—had ever cared for her at all.

She’d first seen him at a university gala.

Sebastian had been onstage, delivering a speech with effortless arrogance, untouchable and perfect.

One look, and she was lost.

She’d spent four years chasing him—bringing him coffee he never drank, memorizing his schedule just to "accidentally" run into him, even breaking her ankle once when she’d snuck into a closed gym to watch him play basketball.

And when they finally got together, he’d remained distant. She’d been the one to propose. She hadn’t minded.

But after three years of marriage, Sebastian had filed for divorce ninety-nine times.

The first time? Because she’d overcooked his steak.

The second? Because she’d laughed too loudly at a party.

The ninety-eighth? Because she’d texted him eleven times in a day instead of his arbitrary limit of ten.

Every. Single. Time. She had begged.

On the ninety-ninth filing, she’d spent the entire night on her knees in his study before he’d finally relented.

That same night, she’d found the letters.

All this time, he’d enjoyed watching her beg.

The next morning, Sebastian filed for divorce for the hundredth time—because she’d left a water ring on his desk.

And for the first time in seven years, Nora looked at the man she’d loved and felt nothing but exhaustion.

This time, she wouldn’t play his game.