Signed Away: His New Wife

al bed while my fiancé, Dyllan, comforted his "fo

f our child because Heather was

was wiping away her crocodile te

ney, and my life for him, onl

s back at the City Hall counter

foot impatiently,

called. She' s having an

trembled and obeyed, de

ld, calculated expressi

ward the door. "I'll handle the pap

backward glance, relie

document, I didn't write my

heart full of vengeance

ou're legally married to t

m final

pte

VY

forgotten, after years of sacrificing everything for the man now tapping his foot impatiently beside me. Dyllan Chambers, my supposed fiancé, looked

yed nerves that had become his default setting whenever Heather was involved. "We'

ed with joy, not this cold, calculated resolve. That Ivy would have etched her name with reverence, seeing it as the gateway to a shared future,

d foster sister, Heather, through a made-up anxiety attack. The memory was a fresh, raw wound, even now. The cold neglect had mirrored the cold steel of the gur

in my eyes, the ghost of a life unlived. He never noticed anything that wasn' t directly related to his

ence my paleness presented to his schedule, to his need to rush to Heather' s side. I gave him a nonco

important this is to Mom and Dad, and to... well, to Heather." He glanced at his phone, which had just vibrated with another message. His brow furrowed, his handsome f

watering from Dyllan' s well of attention. I saw her in my mind' s eye, her big, innocent eyes, her pouty lips, her perpetually clutching at his arm. A

e touched my lips. An idea, cold an

e surprisingly even, "maybe

my lack of understanding, now held a flicker of surprise, then re

asked, a hopeful edge to his

for freedom. "Heather needs you. This is important too, but family comes first, right? Especially when someon

touch was a hollow shell, devoid of the warmth I' d once craved. "I' ll just go calm her down. I promise, I' ll b

cript he' d used countless times. Just you and m

nge wave of pity, quickly suppressed, washed over me. Pity for the man who would walk head

"You' re the best, Ivy. Really. So understanding.

hing. What was there to say? To argue with a ghost? To fight for a love that

shut, leaving me standing alone, the pen still in my hand. I took a deep, shuddering breath, the stale air filling my lungs, then slowl

he of a body giving up. And Dyllan' s voice on the phone, hushed and concerned, but not for me. "Heather, baby, just breathe. I' m com

, struggling life, couldn' t make it. He wasn' t there to hold my hand when the pain, physical and emotional, threatened to te

y' s hair, a dismissive gesture. "Your Aunt Heather is delicate, son. She needs me more." And then he had looked at me, a silent accusation in his eyes

ife, this second chan

longer trembled with sorrow or longing, I scratched out my own name in the '

er Ro

o the waiting clerk, a quiet, almost i

was calm, utterly devoid of the st

y glanced at the paper. She took it, stamped it

eplied, the word t

rden of unspoken grievances and unfulfilled hopes, had lifted. It was gone. Replaced by a lightness I hadn' t known existed. The world looked brighter, the col

clinging to Coralie Chambers, Dyllan' s mother. Coralie, who claimed to love both of us, but whose gaze always softened for Heather, whose voice always took on a sugary tone when she spoke to her. Heather knew how to play the part of th

d looked at the letter, then at me, an unreadable expression on his face. Later that night, Heather had a particularly violent 'asthma attack,' her tiny body wracked with theatrical coughs, her face pale

ing. Can't you... can't you put off law school for a year or two? Just until we're more stable?" His words, coated in concern, had felt like a suffocating blanket. I had loved him then, foolishly, blindly. I had believed his f

fe I once thought I wanted. I was going to Chicago. I was going to la