The April Fool's Divorce

Julian slapped a divorce agreement onto the counter right in front of me.

It was April Fool's Day. "Your two exhusbands called to provoke me yesterday," he tapped the thick stack of paper. "They said you're too uptight.

They bet you couldn't handle a simple joke. Said you'd never dare sign this." I had two marriages under my belt.

Before Julian and I got married, I laid it all out for him. "My first marriage was just a transaction to help Chase lock down his inheritance.

The second time was a favor to help Damien dodge an arranged marriage. I walked away clean both times. No strings attached, no drama.

If my past bothers you, we can just call this off…" He gripped my hands tight enough to leave red marks. His eyes were bloodshot. "I trust you. The past is dead.

Just promise me I'm the only man you look at from now on." After we got our marriage certificate, he treated Chase and Damien like dirt on his shoe. He poured my coffee.

He was gentle. I thought I had finally picked a winner. Until my business trip ended a day early. I unlocked the front door and stopped dead in the hallway.

Julian's voice drifted from the living room, mingling effortlessly with the laughter of my two exes. "She's a pro at getting divorced. She's already done it twice.

Just slide the agreement to her on April Fool's.

You can come back later, sweettalk her, and tell her it was a prank." "Aurora's getting married next week," another voice said. "We made a pact back in high school.

For her bachelorette party, the boys have to be single!" I stood in the shadows and let every single word wash over me.

So when Julian brought that divorce agreement to me, I didn't blink. I reached out and took the pen from his hand. The metal nib scratched across the crisp white paper.

I signed my name. The next time Julian tracked me down, my sixmonth baby bump pressed against the fabric of my dress. He stared at my stomach, completely frozen.

I looked him dead in the eye. "You got one thing right. I take things seriously.

So I took your little April Fool's joke dead seriously." Chapter 1 I sat in the coffee shop across the street for a solid hour.

I didn't walk back to the house until I saw them leave. Julian looked up from his phone as I walked in.

He tossed the device onto the sofa and came over to grab my suitcase. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming back early?

I would've picked you up." He took the handle of the luggage with one hand and seamlessly slipped his other arm around my waist. Gentle. Considerate.

Exactly the same as always. "Did you eat?" "I ate." He nodded. Then, as if a sudden thought had just struck him, his expression shifted. "Right.

Hey, there's something I need to talk to you about." I set my purse down on the console table and turned to look at him.

He let out a heavy sigh and slid a stack of documents across the kitchen counter toward me. "The company hit a rough patch recently. We need to do some asset isolation.

The lawyers suggested we go through the motions of a divorce procedure first." I lowered my gaze. Divorce Agreement.

He had everything prepped and ready in the blink of an eye. "Once the dust settles, we'll get remarried." He wrapped his hands around mine.

His eyes were wide and earnest. "It'll just be a few months." I let the silence stretch between us. "I know it's sudden." He squeezed my palm.

He dropped his voice, lacing it with a defensive edge. "But Chase and Damien called today.

They were taking shots at me left and right, saying you didn't hesitate for a second when you helped them out, but suddenly it's a problem when it comes to me.

They even said a woman who's been divorced twice wouldn't dare go for a third. Said you definitely couldn't handle the heat." He leaned in closer. "I've got it all figured out.

Tomorrow is April Fool's. We'll pick that exact day to file it." "Then we'll slap the divorce certificate right in their faces and scare the hell out of them.

Let's see if they ever underestimate you again. It's April Fool's anyway.

Anything goes as a joke." "Once the company's crisis blows over, we'll get our marriage license back fair and square. No one will say a word." He stared at me.

His pupils dilated slightly, putting on a perfect show of grievance and expectation. "You aren't really going to let them look down on me, are you?" I looked into his eyes.

I kept looking. They were deep, affectionate, absolutely flawless eyes.

The exact same eyes that had just been clinking glasses with those two men in our living room, celebrating because 'she won't make a fuss'. "No," I gave him exactly what he wanted.

The tension visibly drained from his shoulders. He quickly masked the relief with a look of pleasant surprise. "Then get some rest. Tomorrow is the first of the month.

We'll go right after we sign the—" I plucked the pen from his fingers. I flipped to the very last page and signed my name.

Quick and clean. "Give them a call," I set the pen down on the counter and pulled my lips into a smile. "Tell them to stop nagging you." Julian froze.

He clearly hadn't expected me to be this compliant. He recovered quickly, flashing a grin as he gathered the paperwork.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. "You're the best." I didn't flinch. I let him kiss me. Inside, everything had already flatlined.

He scooped up the agreement and headed into the study to make his calls. He kept his voice low, but the heavy door wasn't soundproof.

I heard it anyway. "She signed it." Chase's voice bled through the phone receiver, muffled but distinct. "Told you.

Blair is the easiest to coax." "Alright, just keep Aurora steady for me on your end. I'll head over as soon as I wrap things up here." I sat alone in our bedroom.

The mattress dipped under my weight. I stayed there for a long time. My phone buzzed against my thigh. It was a text from Damien. [It's been a while.

Want to grab a drink and catch up?] I stared at the glowing screen. Chapter 2 In the past, I would have texted back a simple 'Sure'.

I would have agonized over my outfit and my makeup. I would have racked my brain trying to figure out how to prop up Julian's ego in front of them, how to prove I married well.

To beg them to stop picking fights with him. After all, on one side were the boys I grew up with, and on the other was the husband I loved.

I didn't want them at each other's throats for the rest of our lives. But now? I couldn't even summon the energy to type a single letter.

I slammed my phone facedown on the coffee table and pushed myself off the sofa to grab the laundry from the balcony. Julian was still on the phone when I walked past the study.

His voice was pitched low, carrying a loose, effortless rhythm I had never heard before. He sounded like a man who didn't have to pretend anymore. It hit me then.

In all our time together, he had never spoken to me with that kind of ease. The wind whipped across the balcony.

I stripped the clothes off the hangers one by one, folded them tight, and dropped them into the plastic basket. My phone screen lit up just as I grabbed the last shirt.

Texts from Chase. [Heard you're getting another divorce?] [Julian's a piece of trash. He doesn't deserve you.

Don't let it get to you.] [Your grandpa's 80th birthday banquet is coming up. Damien and I are coming to pay our respects.

Let's catch up properly then!] A short, dry laugh scraped my throat. He sounded like a saint.

Like he wasn't the exact same guy sitting in my living room mapping out my divorce just hours ago.

I held down the power button until the screen went black and shoved the phone into my pocket. A fleeting thought crossed my mind about what kind of woman Aurora actually was.

Was she really worth the three of them moving heaven and earth to keep a childhood pact? Was she worth them treating me like a disposable pawn without blinking an eye?

Then the thought evaporated. It didn't matter anymore. None of it did. I hoisted the laundry basket against my hip and walked back inside.

I didn't break my stride as I passed the study. A slice of warm, yellow light spilled through the crack in the door.

Tomorrow, this light, this house, and this man would have absolutely nothing to do with me. I had barely set the basket down when the doorbell buzzed.

I moved toward the entryway, but Julian beat me to it. He pulled the door open. A woman stood on the welcome mat.

Her cheeks were flushed bright red, and the heavy scent of alcohol rolled off her.

Her face broke into a wide smile the second she saw him. "I knew you'd still be awake." Julian's head whipped back to check on me.

He lowered his voice to a sharp whisper. "What are you doing here?" She didn't answer. She just swayed forward, stumbling over the threshold.

Then she spotted me standing in the living room and froze. "Oh. Your wife is home." Chase materialized right behind her, grabbing her arm to keep her upright.

He shot me an apologetic look. "Blair, she had too much to drink. We were driving her home, but she threw a fit and demanded to come see this place." Damien lingered in the doorway.

His gaze darted toward me, his jaw tight. Then he locked eyes with Julian, his tone turning instantly hostile. "Julian, your wife is standing right there.

Don't you know how to keep your distance?" Julian stiffened.

He pointed a finger at Damien, his brow furrowing. "You get her blackout drunk, dump her at my front door, and tell me to keep my distance?" Damien scoffed. "I got her drunk?

Maybe you shouldn't have posted that 'single again' update on your feed!" He stepped aside, crossing his arms. "Fine. Play the saint.

Play the good guy." "I delivered the girl who drank herself into a stupor over you. You deal with it." Chapter 3 Damien and Julian anchored opposite sides of the entryway.

The tension sucked the oxygen straight out of the room. Chase shifted his weight in the middle and cleared his throat. "Alright, knock it off.

Aurora just wanted to drop by and say hi—" I stood dead center in the living room, watching the performance play out. Flawless execution.

If I hadn't heard them clinking glasses an hour ago, I would have bought the bitter rivalry act hook, line, and sinker.

For years, I believed the bond between Chase, Damien, and me was bulletproof. I had literally married both of them just to bail them out of trouble.

My parents died when I was young, and my grandpa was always working. Those two boys had been the scaffolding of my entire childhood.

Whenever things got dark, Chase was the one sitting on my porch steps. Damien still had a scar on his forearm from taking a knife for me when we were kids.

They weren't just friends. They were my blood. So when did our ironclad trio fracture into this? It started in high school. The exact year Aurora transferred in.

A new, exclusive circle formed right in front of me, and I was quietly pushed to the periphery. I became the disposable friend.

The backup plan they only dusted off when they needed a favor. I pulled my gaze away from the doorway. The cracks in the foundation hadn't formed tonight.

I had just finally stopped pretending they weren't there. "Perfect timing," I stepped toward the coffee table and picked up the stack of papers. "I need you to witness something." I held up the divorce agreement. "Two copies.

Already signed. Since everyone is gathered around, you might as well take a look." Julian's jaw twitched. But he recovered in a split second.

Me volunteering the divorce papers in front of Chase and Damien? To him, it was the ultimate proof of my devotion.

The corners of his mouth ticked upward in a smug, satisfied curve. "Blair," he stepped toward me, softening his voice to a low hum. "We can handle this privately.

You don't need to—" "Since you brought it out," Aurora cut in, her voice slicing through the room. "Can I just ask—when exactly are you moving out?" The living room went dead silent.

Julian's brow furrowed. Aurora didn't even glance at him. She kept her wide, innocent eyes locked directly on mine. "The deed to this house has my name on it.

You can't just squat here forever." The air vanished from my lungs. The house. Her name. I snapped my head toward Julian. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

He stared hard at the floorboards, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He didn't say a single word to deny it. Memories flashbanged behind my eyelids.

The day we moved in, his hand wrapping around mine, calling this 'our home'.

The day we closed the deal, him telling me he'd handle the boring paperwork so I wouldn't have to stress. I spent weeks picking out the drapes, the sectional sofa, the dining table.

I drove back and forth to the furniture stores until my feet blistered. I arranged every single square inch of this place to fit his exact tastes.

I never cared whose name was on the deed. But it never crossed my mind that my own marital home belonged to another woman. I looked down at the stack of papers in my hand.

A dry, hollow sound scraped its way out of my throat. "Right now." "Blair…" Julian took a halfstep forward. "Tomorrow. Nine a.m. City Hall." I didn't look back.

I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, slid my feet into my shoes, and yanked the front door open. The hallway sensor light flickered on.

I stood waiting for the elevator, the metal doors reflecting my blank expression.

Even through the thick wood of the front door, the voices bled into the hall. "You actually pulled it off!

She folded faster than when I begged her to marry me the first time!" Raucous laughter detonated behind the door.

I stood in the dead quiet of the hallway and listened to them celebrate my exit. Chapter 4 The girl in the rearview mirror looked far calmer than I expected.

My phone didn't buzz until I was already in the back of a cab. Texts from Julian. [I'll explain the house thing to you later…] [Be good. Find a place to crash for now.

I'll come pick you up in a few days.] I stared at the glaring screen for three seconds before flipping the phone facedown against my thigh.

Outside the window, the streetlights blurred into a continuous yellow streak. 'Pick me up in a few days.' He phrased it like I just popped out to the grocery store for milk and would be back before dinner.

I let my head drop back against the leather seat and closed my eyes. Save the gas, Julian. You won't need to pick me up. Nine a.m. City Hall.

Julian was already waiting by the entrance when my cab pulled up to the curb.

He pushed off the hood of his car, crushed his cigarette under the heel of his shoe, and walked over. "Where did you go last night?" "My grandpa's." He nodded.

His gaze dragged across my face. He reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. I tilted my head. His fingers swiped empty air.

His hand hovered there for a fraction of a second before he shoved it into his pocket. "Blair," he dropped his voice into that manufactured, gentle register. "You gave me face in front of Chase and Damien last night.

I noticed." "As for the house… Aurora needed property under her name to get her residency in the city. I figured it was just a name on a piece of paper." "You come from money.

I didn't think you'd care about something like that, so I didn't bother telling you." I stared at him. 'Wouldn't care?' He signed away the house we built together to another woman, and waved it off because I had money.

He didn't actually think I wouldn't care.

He just didn't care if I did. "Anyway, you still have the right to live there!" he kept laying out the itinerary. "After we file this, just stay out for a bit.

Once I handle the company mess, I'll bring you home." A laugh almost clawed its way up my throat. Even now, he was dead certain I was just playing my part in his little script.

I didn't respond to his excuse. I just pivoted toward the glass doors of City Hall. "Let's file." His footsteps hurried to keep up. The process was brutally efficient. Signatures.

Fingerprints. Photos. The clerk stamped the heavy metal seal onto the paperwork. 'Clack.' The divorce certificate was a thin, flimsy booklet.

It felt exactly like our marriage license, just a different shade. Julian glanced at his buzzing phone.

The skin between his eyebrows pinched together. "I need to take this," he glanced up at me. "Wait right here.

I'll drive you back after." He stepped away, pressing the phone to his ear.

He kept his voice low, but the syllables carried over the quiet hum of the lobby. "Aurora…" I stood perfectly still, watching his back.

He ended the call and practically jogged back over, urgency stamped all over his features. "Something came up. Grab a cab back on your own.

I'll hit you up later." I waited until he walked out the front doors.

Then I turned on my heel and walked directly toward the marriage registration window at the other end of the hall.

Through the glass facade, I watched him walk out into the bright morning sun. He stopped on the sidewalk.

I watched him glance down at the divorce certificate in his hand, then check the glowing screen of his phone