I picked up the pen but froze. My hand hovered over the paper, heart racing. Allie turned toward me, brows knit together.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
I wanted to say no. I wanted to say that signing this felt like signing a death warrant, like I was erasing a bond I wasn’t ready to give up. But instead, I just cleared my throat and forced my hand to move. My name came out shakier than I wanted.
Allie watched me a second longer, then signed her own name beneath mine. Her pen didn’t tremble, and I tried not to feel hurt by that.
The lawyer beamed at us. “Great, then we’re all set! I’ll let you two know when the annulment is finalized. Congratulations on almost not being married anymore.”
We both gave awkward little laughs as we stood. I didn’t feel like celebrating.
Outside, the sunlight felt too bright. I shoved my hands in my pockets and glanced at Allie.
“That was weird,” I admitted.
She let out a breath. “Yeah.”
I hesitated. “Is it weird that I feel…kinda sad?”
Her eyes flicked up to mine, surprised. “You do?”
I nodded. “I know it was just a legal technicality, but still. I don’t know. It kind of meant something to me anyway, I guess.”
She looked at me for a long second. “Yeah,” she said, quieter now. “Me too. I didn’t think it would, but…it does.”
Neither of us said anything for a beat. Then I cleared my throat.
“Wanna get lunch? There’s a place nearby. Walking distance.”
She blinked, then gave me a small smile. “Yeah. That sounds good.”
We walked without much small talk, the kind of silence that had weight but not discomfort. I liked that about being with Allie lately. I didn’t feel like I had to fill every second with words or jokes. I could just exist beside her, and that felt like something solid. Even if we weren’t going to be legally bound to one another anymore pretty soon, we had developed at least that much of a bond.
The restaurant was one of those trendy spots with reclaimed wood tables and overpriced sandwiches. We got seated quickly, tucked into a corner booth. Allie ordered something light, I got something spicy, and then we mostly just sat there, each lost in our own thoughts.
I stole glances at her. She looked tired, like the morning had taken more out of her than she wanted to admit. I knew that feeling. I kept thinking about how easily she could walk away now. No more wedding rings, no more binding paperwork.Nothing to stop her from deciding that this whole situation—me, Cade, Gavin—was too complicated.
She picked at her food, only managing a few bites before she put her fork down.
“You okay?” I asked.
She grimaced. “Yeah, just…this is wild. But someone behind us ordered something with…fish, I think? And the smell is making me nauseous.”
I sat up straighter, concern cutting through my calm. “Are you lightheaded or anything? Like at the zoo?”
She shook her head, pressing a hand to her stomach. “Just…oof.”
“Can I help?”
“No, I just…bathroom.” She slid out of the booth quickly, almost too quickly, and rushed toward the women’s restroom.
I watched her go, frowning. Something wasn’t right.
After a few minutes of anxiously waiting for Allie to return to no avail, I asked the waitress for our check and paid for both of us. Still no sign of Allie for another few minutes after that either, and I suspected our server was anxious to get our table cleared and ready for someone else. I grabbed Alllie’s purse and her phone, thinking I’d bring them to her. Outside the bathroom, I hesitated, then knocked softly.
“Allie? You okay?” I called through the door.
No answer.
