Chapter 7

The room fell into a brittle silence the moment her words landed.

Claire bent down, pulled a thin folder from her handbag, and stepped forward with composure.

She held it out to Nelson, her voice calm and precise. "I've already signed the divorce papers. Just waiting for your signature."

That slim stack of documents seemed to weigh more than stone.

Nelson's gaze locked onto it, a tangled mix of frustration, disbelief, and pressure rising in his chest.

"Claire." His voice was tight, each syllable laced with tension. "When did you sign this?"

He couldn't process it.

She had only just returned yesterday. This—this was technically their first real conversation since her arrival.

And yet, she already had the papers ready?

Was that why she came back?

To end it?

Claire's tone was flat, distant. "Does it matter when? The result's the same."

"It does matter!" Elena snapped, her voice sharp with irritation. "Divorce isn't something you just toss on a table. But Nelson, if she's really this determined, maybe don't make things harder than they need to be. It might be better this way—for everyone."

She didn't say Serena's name. She didn't need to.

The implication hung in the air like smoke.

And right on cue, Serena peeked up from Elena's embrace. Her lashes were still damp, but the tiny curve of her lips betrayed a quiet satisfaction.

She sniffled delicately, then said, "Sis, please don't take it the wrong way. Nelson and I… we actually talked about this before. He said he'd give you the divorce papers after tonight."

Nelson stiffened.

It was true.

He'd had the documents drawn up weeks ago—before Claire returned. Maybe even longer.

He'd been tired of the cold war between them, the silence, the distance.

But now, watching Claire calmly push the folder toward him... it hit differently.

Harder.

His throat worked as he swallowed. "…Yeah."

As expected.

Claire let out a quiet laugh—dry, bitter, short.

So that was it.

Everyone had been waiting for this marriage to dissolve.

Everyone but her.

She was the only one foolish enough to believe there was still something worth saving.

Claire inhaled deeply, then gently nudged the folder closer. Her voice was no longer soft, no longer warm.

"Then if you would, Mr. Cooper?"

Cold. Polite. Distant.

Nelson stared at the papers, a strange tightness coiling in his chest.

He should've felt relieved.

This was what he wanted.

But instead, his mind flashed back—three years ago.

Claire in a white dress, standing at the altar. Her eyes filled with hope, with trust. With him.

He reached for the folder, and his fingers brushed against hers—just for a second.

She pulled away instantly.

That small, instinctive motion stung more than it should have.

His hand tightened around the folder, the edges digging into his skin like splinters.

He forced himself to look at her. Her eyes were calm, her expression unreadable.

"I'll sign it," he said at last. "I'll have the lawyer take care of the rest."

Claire nodded, her lips curling into a faint, almost gentle smile. "Thanks," she said lightly. "Hope it won't take too long."

Nelson didn't answer.

His brows furrowed.

That strange pressure in his chest—the one he thought would go away—was still there.

Worse, it was growing.