Chapter 5
She lifted her wrist to check the time.
Eight-thirty in the morning—the courthouse had just opened.
She'd arrived too early, even before the staff clocked in. People streamed past—some hurrying, others beaming—but she stood alone like an island, out of place beside the steps.
Gabrielle instinctively pulled her collar tighter against the biting morning wind.
Her body remained desperately weak. Every minute standing upright felt like testing the limits of her willpower.
But she couldn't wait any longer.
Not even one more second. This hollow marriage felt like slow torture against her very existence.
Nine o'clock. Nine-thirty. Ten...
Time stretched agonizingly in anxious anticipation. Gabrielle's phone lay silent in her purse—no calls, no messages.
She refreshed her call log repeatedly, then turned her gaze back to the courthouse entrance.
Each approaching figure made her heart skip a beat, only to sink again as the person passed by.
Christian, are you really not coming?
Gabrielle lowered her eyes, concealing the bitterness pooling beneath her lashes.
Perhaps to him, divorce was merely an inconsequential business termination—not even worth showing up to sign papers.
Or maybe, at this very moment, he was stationed by Evelyn's hospital bed, savoring that hard-won tenderness, having completely forgotten last night's promise.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. Gabrielle stumbled, forced to steady herself against a nearby pillar.
"Miss, are you alright?" A passerby noticed her deathly pale complexion.
Gabrielle shook her head, forcing a wan smile. "Thank you. I'm fine."
She pulled out her phone, drew a deep breath, and dialed the number she knew by heart.
The phone rang endlessly. Just when Gabrielle expected it to go to voicemail as usual, static crackled through the receiver.
No greeting—only muffled background noise.
"Christian." Gabrielle's voice came out barely above a whisper, trembling slightly. "I'm at the courthouse. When will you arrive?"
Silence stretched on the other end.
When Christian finally spoke, his tone carried cold indifference—even irritation at being disturbed. "I'm handling company business. We'll talk later."
"But yesterday we agreed—"
"I have more important matters to deal with." Christian cut her off, leaving no room for discussion. "Gabrielle, stop bothering me with these trivial things. I'm busy."
Without waiting for her response, he hung up again.
The cold dial tone echoed in her ear. Gabrielle's knuckles turned white around the phone.
More important matters.
Of course. To Christian, Evelyn's every smile, every frown mattered more than Gabrielle's wellbeing, more than ending their marriage.
She stood frozen, letting the wind whip through her hair.
From dawn to dusk, from blazing sun to fading light.
Wave after wave of people passed through the courthouse doors. Gabrielle remained on those steps all day, watching the sun sink toward the horizon, watching the city lights flicker on one by one.
Christian never came.
Not even an explanation. Not a single excuse.
Gabrielle finally collapsed onto the steps, utterly spent. The bone-deep exhaustion left her without strength to even stand.
The night wind grew sharper, slicing across her cheeks like a blade.
Her phone suddenly rang, its shrill tone shattering the silence.
Seeing "Christian" flash across the screen, Gabrielle's heart lurched.
She answered with trembling hands. Before she could speak, his commanding voice filled her ear.
"There's a family dinner tonight at the Robinson estate. Get yourself together and come over. Now."
His tone brooked no argument—as if he hadn't just stood her up at the courthouse, as if they were still that picture-perfect couple maintaining appearances.
Gabrielle listened to his cold orders, struck by the absurdity.
"Christian, we agreed to get divorced today." Her voice came out hoarse, barely audible.
"I told you—I had more important matters." Christian's patience had clearly run out. "Gabrielle, don't throw a tantrum right now. The family elders will be there. If you dare miss it, you know the consequences."
The call ended again.
Gabrielle clutched the phone, fingertips trembling.
In his eyes, her desire to end this twisted relationship was just... throwing a tantrum?
She looked up at the sparse stars in the night sky, her eyes burning.
Christian wanted her at the family dinner—not because he cared about her, but because he needed someone to play "Mrs. Robinson" for the elders, to maintain that false façade.
Gabrielle closed her eyes, shoving down every ounce of vulnerability and despair.
If he wanted a performance, she'd give him one last show.
After the curtain fell, they would truly be done.
Gabrielle stared at her phone screen and dialed the driver's number.
Wind howled across the courthouse plaza, making her thin coat snap violently.
"Hello, Mrs. Robinson?" Hank Black's voice sounded hesitant, car engines and hospital sirens audible in the background.
"Hank, I'm at the courthouse. Christian wants me at the Robinson estate. Could you pick me up?" Gabrielle's voice was soft, hoarse from the cold.
Silence, then Hank's uncomfortable sigh. "Mrs. Robinson, bad timing. Mr. Robinson just specifically instructed me to head straight to the hospital to pick up Ms. Garcia. Said she needs someone to help her check out. The car's already on the way there. Maybe you could grab a cab?"
Of course.
Gabrielle's lips twisted into a self-mocking smile. She should have known—in Christian's priorities, she would always be the option that could be casually set aside.
