A Hundred Chances Is Enough, Right?

"Don't you need to be with Cedric that day?" I asked.

Tiffany's expression stiffened. "I've spent plenty of time with him. It's time I spent some time with you."

Even as she said it, she seemed to realize how absurd it sounded. Her eyes dropped to the floor, but I didn't call her out on it. I simply played along with the lie.

That day also happened to be the day our divorce would be finalized.

It was fitting, in a way.

…

One day left until our divorce was finalized, and Tiffany hadn't shown up at all in the past two days. She had been busy with Cedric, probably trying to smooth things over.

Still, she would send me trivial messages every night, celebrity gossip, photos of stray cats she saw on the street, and funny memes from social media. It was as if we were just a normal married couple living apart, chatting about nothing in particular.

In five years of marriage, Tiffany and I had never shared that kind of daily banter. I didn't understand why she was suddenly doing it, and I didn't want to understand.

Over those three days, I had been busy moving out. I had gradually packed my things and sent them off to Newford. Moreover, I finalized a lease agreement with a realtor and arranged to rent out all 100 properties under my name.

Eventually, the movement caught Tiffany's attention. That night, she called me. "Jillian said you've been moving?"

I responded casually, "Yeah. Aren't we supposed to go to the western suburbs? I like it there."

Tiffany was silent for a moment, then said, "If we're setting off fireworks over there, that's fine."

I shook my head, then responded with a hint of jest, "Better not. You might get arrested."

She seemed relieved. "Then just wait for me there tomorrow night."

I answered with a quiet hum, just as a notification popped up on my phone confirming my flight booking.

Tiffany paused again, then repeated the words, as if sensing something. "You have to wait for me."

"I will," I said.

…

But the next night, she never came. Jillian called to apologize. Tiffany had a meeting and would be running late. On social media, however, Cedric was in a hot air balloon, and Tiffany was right there in his arms.

I glanced at the time. My flight was leaving in four hours. The divorce agreement would take effect in two. There probably wouldn't be a chance to tell her in person.

There were three hours left, and I stood in the mansion Tiffany had given me, looking out at the river beyond. Dozens of hot air balloons floated in the air. I had no way of knowing which one was theirs.

Thinking of the promise she had made yesterday, I couldn't help but laugh.

If she knew this was the last promise I would ever wait for her to keep, would she come back right now?

I went back inside and looked at the small suitcase in the living room. I didn't have much here. This place had always been nothing more than compensation for the 100th time she broke my heart.

Leaving here now felt oddly meaningful.

With just two more hours left, my lawyer sent over a message of congratulations. "Congratulations, Mr. Marsden. Happy divorce day! I'll have the divorce decree delivered to you shortly."

The divorce decree arrived in the final hour. Just like that, my marriage had officially ended. I picked up my suitcase and prepared to leave.

Traffic on the highway to the airport was a little backed up. As I sat in the car, I happened to glance out the window and saw Tiffany speeding toward the western suburbs.

I looked down. That fleeting moment of passing one another on the highway would be the last time our paths crossed.

But then, she stopped her car and turned to look in my direction.