237 Ks Zero Fs Chapter 05
Under the spotlight, Hailey stood on stage with flushed cheeks, holding the microphone. She asked a question that crossed every boundary.
“If you could ride a time machine back to the past, would you choose your partner again?”
The crowd erupted. The director’s face went white. She coughed loudly, tried to shut it down, and grabbed the mic. “Alright, game’s over! Everyone go get a drink!”
I sat with my legs crossed, entirely detached, scrolling through my phone to confirm tomorrow’s flight details to London Heathrow.
On stage, Conor frowned. He seemed to think the question was inappropriate for the setting.
He shook his head.
The brilliant smile on Hailey’s face dimmed instantly. Her enthusiasm visibly evaporated.
“Your turn to ask me.” She shoved the mic at Conor.
“Which restaurant’s late-night food do you like best?” Conor asked casually.
“Isn’t that what you should know best of all?” Hailey shot back, her tone dripping with undisguised coy affection.
This ambiguous, borderline blatant flirting pulled even more heckling from the crowd, mixed with whistles.
The director awkwardly elbowed me.
“Hey. This is way out of line. Let me go call your husband down. You two should head home early.”
I finally locked my phone screen and lifted my head.
“No need.”
“After tonight, he’s no longer my husband anyway.”
I pushed back my chair, grabbed my trench coat, and walked toward the ballroom doors without looking back.
Conor’s gaze tracked me through the crowd all the way to the doors, until the heavy mahogany soundproof doors cut it off completely.
I called an Uber straight home.
I’d just dragged the TUMI suitcases into the foyer when Conor pulled up behind me.
“You weren’t happy tonight,” he said, walking over. He reeked of alcohol and tried to pull me into his arms.
I sidestepped. “No.”
“You’re lying to me.” He kept talking, oblivious. “Maya, we’ve been married for years. Your every move, even your micro-expressions—I can read them all.”
“You furrow your brow, and I know if you want Starbucks or a milkshake.”
I said absolutely nothing. Just stared at him. Cold. Dead.
The silence stretched so long even Conor, arrogant as he was, couldn’t hold steady. He yanked his tie loose, agitated, and started demanding to know what was wrong.
“Since you claim to know me best, why don’t you guess?” A mocking smile curved my lips.
He saw me smile and instantly relaxed. He assumed this was just another one of our usual spats—fight at the head of the bed, make up at the foot.
He collapsed onto the Restoration Hardware designer fabric sofa.
“My guess… you’re mad I haven’t been spending enough time with you lately. You want me to make it up to you, right?”
“Fine. I’ll take two days of annual leave. You mentioned before that you wanted to rent a cabin in North Cascades National Park. Relax a little. Do some prenatal bonding for the little one in your belly. We can go this weekend.”
I couldn’t be bothered to correct him. I turned and went upstairs to the bedroom.
Early the next morning, Conor was already gone.
He didn’t come home the entire morning.
His Instagram story told me what happened. Hailey had gotten drunk at the after-party last night and twisted her ankle walking back to her Capitol Hill apartment.
Conor was playing knight in shining armor, waiting on her hand and foot at her place.
No ripple of emotion touched me. Alone in the empty townhouse, I slowly finished sealing the last few cardboard boxes.
I took the signed divorce papers—the ones with my signature and thumbprint already in place—and the pregnancy termination confirmation form from Planned Parenthood. I set them both under the Yeti thermos on the kitchen island.
Everything ready, I grabbed my suitcase and locked the front door.
Headed straight for Seattle-Tacoma International Airport.
The sky was being swallowed by rain clouds, thick and dark as spilled ink.
Right as the plane prepared to taxi for takeoff, my phone began vibrating violently.
Blue text bubbles bombed my screen like a siege.