The sound of the gavel was the loudest thing in the courtroom.
"Divorce granted."
Those two words shattered the last pieces of Serena's heart. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. The air felt thick, like she was drowning in silence while the world moved on without her.
Her hands trembled as she reached for her purse, the gold wedding ring she once cherished now lying cold and heavy in her palm. A symbol of love that had turned into a curse.
Across the courtroom sat Ethan Blake, her husband no, ex-husband now. He didn't even look at her. His sharp jaw was set, eyes focused on the papers in front of him like she was a stranger whose existence no longer mattered.
At his side sat Lila, the woman who'd destroyed everything. Dressed in a pristine white suit and fake innocence, she looked every bit the fragile victim she pretended to be. And Ethan's mother—who had once treated Serena like a daughter—was now clutching Lila's hand like she was family.
Serena's lips parted, but no words came. She wanted to scream, to tell them the truth that Lila had lied, twisted everything, framed her for infidelity she never committed. But what good would it do? They had already chosen who to believe.
The Blakes had always been a powerful family—wealthy, influential, and proud. To them, appearances meant everything. Lila knew that. She played her role perfectly, pretending to be sweet and fragile while painting Serena as the cold, selfish wife who didn't appreciate her husband.
And Ethan believed her.
The man Serena had loved for five years didn't even hesitate to throw her out of his life.
As she rose from her seat, a single tear slipped down her cheek. She brushed it away quickly. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
"Serena," a gentle voice called.
She turned to see Lucas Blake, Ethan's younger brother, standing at the back of the courtroom. Unlike the rest of his family, Lucas hadn't abandoned her. His eyes were full of quiet sympathy.
"You don't deserve this," he whispered as she walked past him.
Serena managed a small, brittle smile. "Maybe not. But life doesn't give us what we deserve, does it?"
He looked like he wanted to say more, but she turned away before he could. If she stayed any longer, she'd collapse right there.
Outside, rain poured down, soaking through her thin coat as if the sky itself was mourning with her.
Later That Evening
The small apartment felt colder than usual. She had moved into it two weeks ago after Ethan's lawyer forced her out of the house. It wasn't much a single bedroom, peeling paint, and a window that overlooked the dim lights of the city but it was hers.
She dropped her bag on the couch and stared at herself in the mirror. Her reflection looked like a stranger eyes swollen, hair limp, shoulders hunched from carrying too much pain.
"Five years," she whispered. "Five years wasted."
Her phone buzzed. A message from Ethan.
> Please don't contact my family again. Lila isn't feeling well after today. I hope you find peace.
Peace?
Her lips curved into a bitter smile. Peace was the last thing she had.
She threw the phone on the couch and collapsed beside it, burying her face in her hands. Every memory hit her like shards of glass—their wedding day, the laughter, the promises. She'd given everything to him. And he'd given his heart to another woman.
A Week Later
Serena stood in front of Blake Industries, clutching a brown envelope. She still worked there—technically. Ethan had promised to let her keep her position as a senior designer "until she found something else."
He was merciful, she thought bitterly. Merciful enough to ruin her reputation but kind enough to keep her on a leash.
As she walked into the lobby, whispers followed her. Everyone knew. The office gossip had spread like wildfire—how Serena had cheated, how Ethan had caught her, how Lila had been the "real victim."
She kept her head high, even when she felt like crumbling.
In the elevator, she caught sight of her reflection again. She wasn't the same woman anymore. The naïve wife who believed in forever was gone.
When the doors opened, Ethan's office came into view. Lila was there, of course, standing close to his desk with her hand resting on his shoulder as she laughed softly.
Serena swallowed hard and turned to leave, but then she heard Lila's voice—sugary sweet and sharp as glass.
"I'm just so glad it's finally over. She was suffocating you, Ethan. You deserve peace."
Serena froze.
Lila continued, her tone dripping with fake concern. "Some people don't know when to let go. I just hope she doesn't embarrass herself any further."
Before she could stop herself, Serena turned around. "Don't worry, Lila," she said, her voice steady. "I've let go of everything. Including the trash."
Lila's smile faltered. Ethan's eyes flickered to her, a storm brewing behind his calm façade. "Serena, that's enough."
"No," she said quietly. "It's not. You believed her lies without question. You destroyed me, Ethan. I hope one day you realize what you lost."
With that, she turned and walked out, every step echoing her heartbreak.
That Night
Serena sat at a bar in the city's quieter side, staring at the golden liquid in her glass. The bartender glanced at her with concern, but she just gave him a weak smile.
"I'm fine," she murmured.
But she wasn't.
She didn't even know why she came here—maybe to forget, or maybe to feel something other than pain.
As she was about to order another drink, a deep, smooth voice spoke beside her.
"Rough day?"
She turned. The man beside her was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark suit that screamed power and money. His features were sharp yet calm, his gaze steady and unreadable.
She blinked. "You could say that."
He smiled faintly, swirling the drink in his hand. "You don't strike me as the kind who drowns her problems in whiskey."
"Maybe I'm trying something new," she replied, a hint of sarcasm lacing her tone.
He chuckled—a low, warm sound that sent an unexpected shiver down her spine. "Then allow me to keep you company. New experiences shouldn't be lonely."
"I don't even know your name," she said, half amused, half cautious.
He extended his hand. "Aidan Shaw."
The name clicked somewhere in her memory. The billionaire CEO of Shaw Corporation—a man the media called ruthless, brilliant, untouchable.
"What are you doing in a place like this?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Looking for a reason to stay a little longer in this city."
Their eyes met, and something electric passed between them—something that made her heart beat faster.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was loneliness. Or maybe it was the way he looked at her like she wasn't broken.
Hours passed without her realizing. They talked, they laughed—a sound she hadn't made in weeks. When he offered to walk her home, she didn't refuse.
The night air was cold, but his presence was warm.
Outside her apartment, she hesitated. "Thank you… for tonight."
He smiled softly. "Thank me in another way."
Before she could ask what he meant, his lips brushed hers—softly at first, then deeper, hungrier, as if he'd been waiting for this moment forever.
She should've pulled away. She should've said no. But instead, she kissed him back, pouring all her pain, her anger, her heartbreak into that kiss.
And when they stumbled into her apartment, clothes falling, breath mingling—it wasn't love. It was escape.
The Next Morning
Serena woke to sunlight spilling across her sheets and the faint scent of expensive cologne.
The other side of the bed was empty.
A note lay on the pillow.
> You don't know it yet, but last night wasn't a mistake. —Aidan
Her breath caught.
She didn't understand what he meant—but for the first time in weeks, her heart didn't feel completely shattered.