SYDNEY'S POV
The soft wind of the night continued to whip my hair to and fro while I stood outside with my suitcase next to me. I was finally out of that house. Not far ahead on the street, I noticed headlights flashing brightly in my direction, and a faint smile crept onto my lips because I recognized who it was instantly.
The flamboyant red sports car pulled up right in front of where I stood, and an even more flamboyant woman sat in the driver's seat, twiddling her fingers at me as she rolled down the window.
It was Grace.
Grace was not only my best friend, but also my business partner. We had been inseparable since our college days. Because we both shared a passion for fashion, we decided to turn our dreams into reality by co-founding Luxe Vogue, a fashion-forward online shopping site that quickly became a favorite among young trendsetters.
Grace had a keen eye for design, so she took charge of designing stunning clothing collections, while I focused on designing jewelry at our equally jointly owned studio, Atelier. Atelier was a high-end fashion studio catering to an elite clientele. Our business acumen and creative vision had catapulted us into the world of high-ranking millionaires.
I knew right when I saw that grin on her lips that she was going to tease me next. Playful banter between us was as natural as breathing. I stepped into the passenger seat of Grace's car, sighed, and immediately clicked my seatbelt in.
"Finally willing to leave that bastard and return to work?" Grace quipped with a mischievous grin.
"I really don't understand why you would waste three years of your life being a housewife, taking care of an asshole who doesn't love you at all."
I rolled my eyes. "Because I was blind, but now I can see. Heard of that song?"
Grace chuckled, starting the car. "Well, I'm glad your eyes are wide open now. We've got a whole lot to run, and we can't have you distracted by some guy who doesn't appreciate you."
"You know, Sydney, I have to say this again: that whole 'married' thing... with that guy? I hated it on you!" She glanced briefly at the gate of Mark's house. "Gosh, I've been dying to say that."
I chuckled, resting my elbow tiredly on the car door. "Oh please.” From the start, Grace had always hated my marriage to Mark. She had tried—both indirectly and directly—to show her disapproval. Sometimes openly, other times more subtly, like hesitating before congratulating me on another anniversary or changing the subject whenever I mentioned something about my marriage. I was glad we could finally talk and make jokes about it freely.
"I mean, what was with all those frumpy dresses and sensible shoes? Eww!"
"Grace!" I laughed again.
"Mr. Wrong really had an influence on your wardrobe? I've never seen you wear so much beige in my life. And the day I saw you in flats with a cocktail dress—I swear, I nearly died."
I burst out laughing again, shaking my head. "Oh, come on. You know I was just trying to fit the 'perfect wife' image. Never again."
"Thank goodness you're out of that hole."
I still found her teasing funny, so I playfully swatted at Grace.
"Hey, but I thought I looked pretty good in those dresses, though!"
"Huhn?" Grace raised her upper lip in mock disgust. "Maybe to a blind man."
This reminded me of a function I had attended with Mark, wearing a dress I'd thought was elegant, which he later called too revealing and promiscuous for a wife. Not only did his insults hurt, but what hurt even more was the public humiliation when others witnessed it. The incident eventually reached my parents, leading to further embarrassment. I think that's when my wardrobe started to change. I had been trying to please everyone, especially Mark and my parents. What a fool I'd been.
I sighed. "Goodness. I missed us."
Grace nodded. "Yeah, me too," she said, stepping on the gas pedal. The engine roared to life as she dashed onto the road and merged into the flow of traffic.
"So, where are we headed now?"
"To the airport, of course. I've got a sudden urge for a short trip."
"Wow, I thought you'd at least come over to my place for the night or something," Grace remarked.
I shrugged. "Just want to get away for a bit."
Grace leaned back in her seat, resting a hand on the car door while the other stayed on the steering wheel. "Well, you need it anyway."
"That reminds me," Grace said, "a company is interested in buying the website. And I kid you not, it's an insane offer. I'm tempted."
"I'm really not in the mood for work right now. We'll talk about that when I return," I said, glancing at Grace. She nodded understandingly. "Totally get it."
I really needed this trip, to clear my mind for a bit, to revel in my freedom from Mark and the suffocating routine I had fallen into. I knew my parents were going to be mad; they always were when I tried to break free from their demanding decisions. But I couldn't have cared less about whatever was to come. The thought of finally leaving everything behind was liberating.
Grace pulled into the airport. As the car came to a stop, I unclicked my seatbelt and reached for my handbag, eagerly taking out my phone. I dialed a number and held the phone to my ear.
"I'm here now. Where are you?" I spoke first. "Alright, alright," I added as the receiver responded before ending the call.
Grace looked at me curiously. "Who was that?" she asked.
"You'll see," I grinned cryptically. Grace gave me a suspicious look but didn't probe further.
While we waited in the car, a man in a sharp suit approached, carrying a briefcase. Recognizing him immediately, I told Grace, "Wait here," before getting out to meet him.
"Good evening," he greeted me professionally, and I returned the pleasantries with a nod.
He was the lawyer I had called earlier to help draft the divorce papers.
The lawyer opened his briefcase and took out an envelope containing the papers. While he did, I glanced back at the car and saw Grace watching curiously.
"Here," he handed me the papers. I glanced through them one by one, feeling an overwhelming sense of finality wash over me.
"Do you need more time to review them?" the man asked. I shook my head, determined. "No, where do I sign?"
He pointed to various places in the documents. "Here, here," flipping through them, "over here and here." Then, he handed me a pen.
I signed every page and spot that required my signature, finally handing the papers and pen back to him.
"I'll have Mr. Torres receive a copy as well and will send yours too," he said, placing the papers back in his briefcase.
"You can send them to my email."
"Will do," he said.
I nodded. "Thanks," shaking his hand.
"It's my job," he replied with a smile.
As I got back into the car and shut the door behind me, I let out a heavy sigh. It felt warmer in the car compared to outside.
Grace looked at me, immediately asking, "So, are you going to kill my curiosity now?"
I looked at her and replied, "That was the lawyer. I signed the divorce papers."
Grace's eyes widened, and she let out a dramatic scream. "Are you crazy? You're actually giving up asking him for alimony? He's a billionaire; you could get a hundred million in alimony!"
I chuckled bitterly. "It doesn't matter. I just want to divorce him as soon as possible! I'm a millionaire on my own; I don't need him to raise my value."
Grace shook her head. "But still, a hundred million..." She looked so pained that I almost chuckled.
I shrugged. "Let him keep his money. We're bigger than that anyway. I just want to move on with my life."
"Aww, girl. I totally get it." Grace reached out and squeezed my hand. "I'm here for you, no matter what."
"And that's all that matters to me." I smiled and squeezed her hand in return. We must have looked like two typical best friends in some kind of soap opera for a moment.
Grace snapped us out of our little emotional moment. "Alright, let's get your things," she said, getting out of the car to help me pull my suitcase from the backseat and raise the handle tall.
"Tell all the eligible bachelors in town, the Queen is back!" I announced loudly into the wind.
"Woo-hoo! The Queen is back, everyone!" Grace hooted after me.