Driving home felt like being on autopilot.
I walked into the house — the place where I'd shared two years of my life with Daven — and looked around. Our living room, our bedroom, our photos... I grabbed everything and hurled it out the door.
All of it, from the most precious to the most worthless.
My husband hadn't believed me. He'd asked for a divorce and kissed another woman right in front of me.
I felt hollow. I wasn't even crying anymore. Something inside me died that day.
I completely shut down for three straight days. I didn't touch my phone, my computer, didn't even turn on the TV. I didn't want to see news about my husband with another woman.
On the third day, I was summoned to court. I dragged myself out of bed and, despite my anguish, decided to put myself together. I wasn't about to let them see me in a pathetic state.
I wore a fitted black dress, floor-length, with black heels. I did my makeup and let my hair down — since it's white, it was all the more striking against the dark clothing.
I chose black because my love was in mourning.
I arrived at the courthouse and walked to my assigned seat, my lawyer close behind.
I could see my now-former in-laws chatting and laughing with Marizza, the way they used to do with me. She looked up and was visibly taken aback by my appearance, but she recovered quickly, slipping back into her air of superiority.
"Oh, looks like you made an effort, but it won't do you any good, because Daven"
I walked right past her, ignoring her existence. She bristled when I left her mid-sentence.
I passed Blake, and he tried to speak to me, but I didn't acknowledge him either.
Finally, I reached Daven. He stared at me, mouth open, confusion plain on his face.
"Evangeline..."
He tried to approach me, but my lawyer stopped him.
"Return to your seat, Mr. Worwick." The command left no room for argument. Daven nodded and went back to his place.
The judge arrived and began the proceedings, but honestly, I wasn't listening to a word. It wasn't until my lawyer leaned in and whispered to me.
"If we keep this up, we can get you half of everything he owns."
I looked at him.
"I don't want anything."
He stared at me, dumbfounded.
"What are you talking about? You were married to him for two years. You're entitled to it."
I shook my head again.
"I just want Daven Worwick out of my life. Forever."
"But, ma'am!"
"I'm paying you, so do what I say."
He sighed and nodded. He walked over to the judge and whispered my wishes. The judge looked at me for a moment and nodded.
"Mrs. Windsor does not wish to claim anything from Mr. Worwick."
I heard gasps throughout the courtroom, but I didn't turn around. I saw Daven rise to his feet, trying to come toward me, but the officers held him back.
"Are you certain, Mrs. Windsor?" The judge asked, and I nodded.
"Very well. You are officially divorced."
We both approached to sign the final documents. I signed first, because the only thing I wanted was to get out of that room.
Daven looked at me, but I didn't return his gaze.
When I finished, I walked out of the courthouse.
"Evangeline..." I heard him call after me, but he was cut off by an excited squeal "Marizza, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him. He didn't push her away."
"We can finally be together, my love!" She exclaimed with exaggerated excitement, because I knew she was mocking me.
I got in my car and drove to the company — the one I hadn't been to in three days. When I arrived, I saw James, who looked at me with sympathy.
"Evangeline..."
"Please give this to the director when you see him." I handed him my resignation letter and, without another word, left.
As I drove, I couldn't help but remember the first time I met Daven. He was sixteen and I was eleven. It was love at first sight — on my end, anyway.
That day, I'd been playing with Blake when Daven showed up. The moment I saw him, I was mesmerized.
He was my first childhood love. I adored him, even after I found out he was in love with Marizza.
I tried to spend every day at Blake's house, just to catch a glimpse of his brother. That went on for years, and eventually I resigned myself to the belief that Daven would never see me as anything more than "his little brother's friend." And that's exactly how it was — until I turned nineteen.
By then, we were all gathered at the church, waiting for the ceremony to begin. Yes, I was there. Daven looked perfect at the altar, waiting for his bride. He was nervous but radiant with excitement.
"I should pay some thugs to hold Marizza up so she can't make it, and then Daven will fall in love with me," I joked in a whisper to Blake. He laughed and shook his head. "Even then, Daven still wouldn't want you," he teased, giving me a playful shove.
The minutes ticked by and Marizza didn't arrive. Daven's smile slowly faded into a blank expression. Whispers rippled through the crowd and the tension was suffocating.
"Let's take a break, please." Daven said, retreating to a private area. Blake, his parents, and I exchanged worried glances and followed him.
When we found him, his face was buried in his hands.
"An hour late... She's not coming." He said, tears streaming down his face.
Even though I hadn't wanted him to marry someone else, I hated seeing him suffer like that.
"Daven..." I went to him and wrapped my arms around him. "We can wait a little longer. She's just running late." I tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.
"So... what do we do now? Everyone out there is expecting a wedding." Blake said, glancing at the guests waiting patiently in the pews.
"Evangeline." Daven looked at me. "You love me, don't you?"
The question caught me off guard. It was no secret that I was in love with him.
"Yes..."
"Then marry me." I stood there in shock. "Daven, that's not how this works..." We all tried to reason with him, but he refused to listen. Maybe it was spite, but he genuinely wanted that wedding to happen. "The dress Marizza was going to wear is right there. Just put it on and say yes." Without another word, he returned to the altar "no longer waiting for Marizza. He was waiting for me."
Despite my reservations, I agreed. I put on Marizza's dress. It was too big on me — I certainly didn't have the figure to fill it out.
But none of that mattered. I was finally going to marry the love of my life. This was a gift from the heavens, and I wasn't about to waste it.
And so we were married.
I was terrified that he'd see me as a placeholder until Marizza came back. I wasn't that.
And to my surprise, it was as if he'd erased Marizza from his life entirely. He treated me well, we made love often, and he never — not once — mentioned his ex's name.
I trusted him completely, and I believed he trusted me too. How wrong I was.
How could I have ever thought a marriage that started like that would end well? I must have been blinded by my love for him.
Now I see everything clearly. I was only ever a temporary replacement — something disposable. Our love never existed.
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