Would You Divorce Over a Cup of Coffee

My last day.

I was on the balcony, bringing in the laundry, when my wedding ring slipped off my finger.

"No!"

I lunged for it, leaning over the railing, almost falling eighteen stories.

A strong hand yanked me back.

"Are you crazy?!" Vincent pulled me back onto the balcony. "You almost died for a ring?"

I looked down. The ring was long gone.

"It's just a ring," Vincent said, his voice laced with an easy dismissiveness. "It's gone. I'll buy you another one."

Just a ring?

I looked at his hand. His ring finger was bare.

"Where's yours?"

He instinctively clenched his fist. "It's being repaired."

"How long has it been in for repairs?"

"About a month. The diamond was loose." He avoided my eyes.

What a pathetic excuse.

A month. The exact same amount of time since he started showing up at family events with Sophia on his arm.

"Bella, tomorrow is our anniversary," he said suddenly. "Let's have dinner."

I looked at him and nodded. "Okay."

One last meal. A final end to our story.

"Seven o'clock. Bella Vista."

It was where we had our first date.

The next evening, I got to the restaurant on time. Seven o'clock came and went. Seven-fifteen. Seven-thirty.

No Vincent.

"Miss, perhaps your friend was held up," the waiter said kindly. "Would you like to order first?"

"I'll wait a little longer."

Eight o'clock. Eight-thirty.

My phone finally buzzed. Not a call from Vincent, but a text from his cousin, Marco, with a screenshot. It was a picture of Sophia from her nightclub days, scantily clad, drinking with a customer.

Marco's message was simple: `This is making the rounds. Thought you should know.`

I stared at the photo, a bad feeling creeping over me.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, the restaurant doors burst open. Vincent stormed in, his face a thundercloud, with a sobbing Sophia trailing behind him.

"Bella!" he snarled, his voice a low growl of fury. "What the hell did you do?"

All the other diners turned to stare.

"What are you talking about?" I asked calmly.

"You have some nerve, Bella," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Playing these games behind my back. I thought you had more class than this."

Sophia cried beside him. "Bella, I know you hate me, but you shouldn't have done this. That was my past. I've changed."

"Why are you trying to ruin me?" she wailed. "What did I ever do to you?"

The other customers started whispering. Someone was filming with their phone.

"Vincent, I didn't post those pictures," I said, looking right at him.

"Don't lie to me." The disappointment in his eyes was sharper than the fury. "Who else could it be? You're jealous of her, so you tried to ruin her."

"Bella, I overestimated you! I thought you had at least some decency!"

I looked at this man. Three years of marriage, and he didn't have an ounce of trust in me.

"Fine." I pulled a document out of my purse.

"What's that?" Vincent frowned.

"The divorce papers." I pushed them across the table to him. "Sign them."

"You..." He was stunned.

"Since you think I'm so vicious and filthy, let's just get a divorce," I said, my voice steady. "Then I won't have to disgust you anymore."

Vincent's face went through a dozen shades of fury.

Sophia tried to play peacemaker. "Bella, don't be rash. Vincent is just angry."

"You're husband and wife. Don't fight because of me."

"Shut up!" Vincent suddenly snapped at her. "This has nothing to do with you!"

Sophia flinched, and her tears flowed even harder.

"Vincent, if you think I'm so despicable, then sign the papers." I put a pen down in front of him.

"Bella, don't push me!"

"I'm not pushing you. I'm setting you free." I stood up. "Weren't you the one who said I was an embarrassment? Well, now you're free."

Vincent stared at the divorce papers, his hand trembling. Everyone in the restaurant was watching. His pride wouldn't let him back down in public.

"Fine!" He snatched the pen, his knuckles white. With a single, vicious slash, he signed his name. "You're going to regret this, Bella." His tone was stern, but a sliver of unease hid beneath it.

He raised his voice as if trying to convince himself.

"You're an orphan with nothing and nowhere to go. I'll be waiting for the day you come crawling back to me."

After signing, he grabbed Sophia to leave.

"Vincent!" Sophia cried. "I don't want to ruin your marriage!"

"Let's go!" he snarled, dragging her out of the restaurant.

I sat there, staring at the signed divorce papers.

It was over.

Three years of marriage, over just like that.

Our last wedding anniversary was now our divorce anniversary.

I looked at the table of cold Italian food, picked up my fork, and ate every last bite of the pasta in front of me. It tasted like ash, but I needed my strength.

Then, I grabbed the suitcase I'd already stashed in the corner and hailed a cab to the airport.

On the way, I sent Vincent one last text.

“I left the key at home. I'm gone. Don't contact me again.”

Message sent. I turned off my phone and boarded the plane to Seattle.