From Here, No More Us

Leah bailed from the hospital early that morning, totally ignoring the doctor's orders. Most of her stuff was already packed—just a few last things to grab.

Right as she hit the bottom step, Ian and Cecilia walked in. Ian rushed over.

"Leah! You're not better yet. Why are you here? Come on, I'll drive you back."

He reached for her arm, but she pulled back. "I'm good."

He kept pushing. She didn't budge.

He gave up.

He carried her upstairs, set her down gently, pulled the blanket over her. "Leah, it's all gonna be okay."

She didn't answer. Her phone buzzed.

One glance—Cecilia had sent her a video. Her and Ian. Hooking up in the hospital bathroom.

Ian sat there, waiting for her to say something. Right as he opened his mouth, Leah cut in.

"What's the code to our safe?"

Back when they got married, he'd signed a divorce agreement just to ease her mind, then locked it away. The password was six digits—split between them. A safety thing. Neither could open it alone.

Ian didn't even blink. "Mine's your birthday. No clue what yours is."

"Okay."

At 3 a.m., Leah got up and cracked it open.

Six numbers. Six years. Gone like nothing.

There were two copies of the divorce papers. She signed them both and left them on the dining table.

Then she opened the door, suitcase rolling behind her. Professor Calvo was already parked out front.

He looked past her, toward the house. "Leah, your husband's not seeing you off?"

She slid into the seat, buckled up, and chucked the phone she'd used for six years into the nearest trash bin.

"No need."

From that moment on, she was done needing him.