I wasn't about to listen to more of the same excuses. I thought that would be the end of it. But with Sophia, things always dragged on. On the third night, she knocked on the door again.
It wasn't a gentle knock. It was frantic, almost as if she'd already rehearsed every apology, but none of them worked. I opened the door slightly. She looked awful, face puffy from crying, eyes still red as if she hadn't slept at all.
"Daniel, can we talk, please?" I stepped aside. Not because I wanted to talk, but because I had nothing to hide. She sat on the couch looking really nervous.
"I made a mistake," she said, barely whispering. "I don't even know how it happened. Alex and I, it wasn't serious. It was stupid."
"I don't know why I agreed to the trip." I stayed silent. She wiped her face, looking away. "I thought maybe you didn't care anymore."
I let out a small, disbelieving laugh. "Right," I said. "I showed I didn't care by buying you a bracelet for our anniversary. That makes perfect sense."
She looked down, embarrassed. Then came the usual apology speech, the one everyone who's cheated gives. "I'm willing to fight for this marriage. I'll cut him off."
"We can do therapy. I'll do anything you want." I let her get through the whole thing. When she stopped, I slid the divorce papers across the table to her again.
"Sophia, this is already done." She stared at the papers like she'd never seen them before, even though she had cried over them just a few days ago. "I can't lose you," she said, voice breaking. "I swear I'll change."
I shook my head. "You didn't lose me because of a mistake. You lost me because of your choices, repeated choices." She stayed quiet.
"You didn't mess up once. You planned a trip, booked a room, lied for weeks, and then left me on our anniversary without a second thought. You weren't confused. You were comfortable."
She didn't say anything else. She broke down again, sobbing. But none of it made me feel anything, not anger, not guilt, not sadness. Just done.
After a few minutes, she stood up, tears still streaming down her face. "Can I at least stay here tonight? I have nowhere else to go." "No," I said, not out of anger, just coldly.
"This isn't your home anymore." She froze at that. Then she nodded, like she finally understood. She left quietly.
And when the door closed behind her, everything was just quiet. After that, things went the way you'd expect. Her parents called me to apologize on her behalf. Her brother asked if I wanted him to talk to Alex.