Chapter 2: The Breaking Point
Belinda stood frozen for a moment, her mind racing but her body unable to move. The room felt like it was spinning, the voices around her fading into a distant hum. Lucas’s words echoed in her ears: “The divorce papers are on the coffee table at home. Sign them when you go back.”
She wanted to scream, to cry, to demand answers. But instead, she forced herself to stay calm. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. Not here. Not now.
With a deep breath, Belinda straightened her posture and met Lucas’s cold gaze. “If that’s what you want,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her.
Lucas didn’t respond. He simply turned away, as if she were already nothing to him. Verena, sitting nearby, gave Belinda a small, pitying smile—a smile that felt more like a knife twisting in her chest.
Belinda turned and walked out of the room, her head held high. But the moment she stepped into the hallway, the weight of everything crashed down on her. Her legs felt like jelly, and she leaned against the wall for support. The cake, the rain, the humiliation—it all replayed in her mind like a cruel movie.
She had spent years loving Lucas, believing in their marriage, even when it felt one-sided. She had ignored the whispers, the rumors, and the way he barely looked at her. She had convinced herself that one day, he would see her worth. But now, she knew the truth. She had never been anything more than a pawn in his game.
As she made her way out of the club, the rain had slowed to a drizzle. The cool air hit her face, a stark contrast to the heat of her anger and pain. She didn’t call for a ride. She needed to walk, to clear her head, to figure out what to do next.
When Belinda finally arrived home, the house was dark and silent. It had always felt more like a showpiece than a home—cold and impersonal, just like Lucas. She walked into the living room and saw the envelope on the coffee table, just as he had said. Her name was written on it in Lucas’s neat handwriting.
She picked it up, her hands trembling slightly. For a moment, she considered tearing it to pieces. But what good would that do? Lucas had made up his mind. He wanted Verena, not her. There was no point in fighting for a man who had never truly been hers.
Belinda opened the envelope and pulled out the divorce papers. They were straightforward, just a few pages outlining the end of their marriage. Lucas had already signed them. All that was left was her signature.
She sat down on the couch, staring at the papers. Part of her wanted to cry, to mourn the life she had thought she would have. But another part of her—a part she hadn’t realized was there—felt a strange sense of relief. For years, she had been living in a shadow, trying to be someone she wasn’t just to please a man who didn’t care about her. Maybe this was her chance to start over, to find herself again.
Belinda reached for a pen and signed the papers without hesitation. As she set the pen down, she felt a small spark of something she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.
The next morning, Belinda woke up early. She packed a small bag with her essentials, leaving behind the expensive clothes and jewelry Lucas had bought her. She didn’t want any of it. She wanted a fresh start, one that was entirely her own.
Before leaving, she placed the signed divorce papers on the kitchen counter, along with a note. It was short and to the point:
“Lucas, I’ve signed the papers. I hope you find what you’re looking for with Verena. As for me, I’m finally choosing myself. Goodbye.”
With that, Belinda walked out of the house for the last time. She didn’t look back.
As she stepped into the morning sunlight, she felt a sense of freedom she hadn’t known in years. She didn’t know what the future held, but for the first time in a long time, she was excited to find out.
Belinda Wright was no longer the woman who lived for Lucas Clark. She was ready to become the woman she was meant to be.