Melody left me alone while she handled a few things at work. Her words, not mine. I couldn't help myself as I reread Chris's love letter, clutching the deed to my house in my hands. No matter what happens. Did he plan to leave even then?

I wandered into the master bedroom, hesitating in front of the curtains before opening the large glass door and stepping out into the drizzling rain. It looked how I felt.

Sitting there and looking out at the mountainside, my mind wandered back to the first day I had seen this view. The best view in the city was all mine and the bedroom behind me was supposed to be ours. It was supposed to be the place I would one day share with Chris. I still remembered him laughing at me when I suggested he take the bedroom.

Everything was always for me. And that was what made everything make no sense. Why would he pretend to be doing everything for me and do nothing for himself and then just drop me the second we completed the tasks?

I had to get to the bottom of it. So I spent three hours wandering around my house trying to get ahold of my lawyer and seriously considered pushing him off a small vessel before I finally got someone on the phone.

"Law offices of-" the lazy voice answered.

I almost dropped my phone at the shock and cut her off before she finished. "Yes, hello. I spoke with Mr. Mattieu about dissolving a marriage and there's been a mistake. I need to speak to him immediately."

"Mr. Mattieu is not in at the moment, may I take a message?"

"No you may not take a..." I resisted the urge to swear, bouncing on the edge of my bed. "You may not take a message, I need to speak with someone urgently."

"Well... he's not here. I can't just make a lawyer show up, ma'am."

Sassy. Alright.

"When will he be there? He's made a very big mistake and I need him to fix it. Like, yesterday."

"Ma'am, I can't schedule you an appointment for today. How's next Tuesday?"

"He dissolved my marriage without my consent and now I can't get ahold of my husband or, rather, ex-husband to fix this whole mess and I need Mr. Mattieu to fix it!"

In hindsight, I wasn't very kind to a woman just doing her job, but it was urgent!

"Ma'am. I'm very sorry but I only have appointments beginning next week."

I let out a groan and threw a nearby pillow across the room. "Thanks for nothing."

"So shall I schedule you for next Tuesday?"

"NO!" I shouted before slamming my hand into the red button and ending the call. I miss the days of smashing the phone down. When I wanted to hang up aggressively, they knew it.

"I'm guessing that was unsuccessful?" Mel stuck her head into my room, sandwich half eaten on the plate in front of her.

"You could say that." I rubbed my temples and sank into the comfort of my pillows. "He's apparently unable to take a meeting with me until next Tuesday. Doesn't really matter, though, because I know there's nothing we can do. He filed the papers and they're finalized now. I'm divorced."

I took a moment to consider everything and then whispered the end of the thought. "And my husband gave me a whole house." I groaned. "I'm an awful person!"

"You are not an awful person. We can figure this out." She handed me half the sandwich and sat down beside me. "I mean, he loves you. I know he does."

"Yeah. Maybe. But how much hurt can one man forgive, really?"

"You'll never know if you don't try."

A long pause settled between us as I munched my half of the sandwich, suddenly realizing how long it had been since I'd eaten.

"You're right, aren't you?"

She nodded, settling back into the bed. "And once we're done with these sandwiches we're going to take my right answers and go find Chris because we need to fix this."

"We?"

"What are best friends for if not to chase down ex-husbands and try to get them back because they think you wanted a divorce due to a legal clerical error?"

"That was both extremely specific and useless information." I relented and sank my teeth into the last bites of her very fancy sandwich. "What's in this?"

Once we had gathered ourselves and wrapped my ankle, I was itching to get started. There had to be a way to fix the problem. And if there wasn't, I wanted to know as quickly as possible. But after waiting for me for at least half an hour, Mel insisted I change into a good outfit before we went to find Chris.

"I do not need a special outfit for this!" I protested, wanting nothing more than to get this whole thing over with.

"You don't want to try to get your husband back looking like that, do you?"

"I think if he's the kind of guy I want to be married to he won't care."

"Uh huh. I'm still not letting you do it. You don't want to look back on this day and regret showing up to his workplace wearing, well, that."

I looked down at my torn sweatpants and baggy graphic tee. My hair, though not visible, was almost certainly looking like a nest on top of my head. Maybe Mel had a point.

"Okay, I'll put on jeans and a nicer tee but that's it."

"Throw in some brushed hair and teeth and you got yourself a deal."

"That bad?"

"No, but we need you to be confident for this."

"Fine. And you are not coming with me. I have to do this on my own."

She tried to convince me that I couldn't drive with my ankle still wrapped up but unfortunately her car was an automatic and it was my left ankle that was sprained. It might be difficult, but it could be done. Plus, I was mostly healed and my doctor said I could drive myself to work, so what was the difference?

Once Mel declared me fit for public viewing, I made her call Paul to come pick her up and hopped into her car. It was only once I closed the door behind me that I realized I didn't know where Chris's family or workplace were. I'd have to go for a deep dive of my maps app to find where I had been.

Or, I could just call them. I flipped through the paperwork from my marriage to find his emergency contact information and pulled up a picture of some plans he drew to find the name of his workplace. I wasn't sure if he was more likely to be at work or at his parents' house, but I simply could not bear to face them after what I had done to their son.

So I dialed the number for his work, waiting in agony while it rang.

"Behelont Architecture. I'm Meredith, how may I help you?"

"Yes, hello. I'm looking for Christopher Scott."

"May I ask who's calling?"

"It's Aubrey. Aubrey Scott." With any luck, the name will convince him to talk to me this time.

My heart pounded in my chest while the woman tapped at her keyboard.

When she came back, she couldn't transfer me to speak to Christopher, but my name had done me one favour. She dropped her voice to a whisper and conspiratorial told me, "Mr. Scott has taken three days off work and has the rest of the week out of the office for a personal matter. I'm so sorry I couldn't help you."

"Yeah, I know what the personal matter is," I said. "Thank you, though. I didn't know he wasn't in the office. Thanks again."

"Anytime." I could hear her smile through the phone.

The click left me sitting in the car, alone, with the pressure of what I was about to do closing in on me.

I still didn't know where Chris was, which meant I was going to have to do something truly terrifying. I was going to have to speak to his parents. I could only hope he hadn't told them the full extent of what had happened.

Turning the key over in the car, I put it into reverse and backed out of my driveway.

Deep breaths, Aubrey. It's time to face the music.