Turning point

Anderson

I slammed the car door shut, the divorce papers sitting on the passenger seat. I told myself this was just a formality, a final chapter in a book I was more than ready to close.

And yet, as I drove, I couldn't shake the nagging thought of her. Kelly. Was she still at the station?

My hand moved to the phone on the dashboard before I could stop myself. I dialed.

"Hello?" the officer's voice crackled through the line.

"I'm coming to pick up the keys Kelly Brook left. Is she still there?" 

"She is, but someone picked her up not long ago. I think they're probably still around"

I didn't let him finish. I hung up and pressed my foot to the gas pedal, the engine roaring as the car shot forward.

Someone picked her up? Who? A man?

The thought gnawed at me, a sharp, bitter edge digging into my chest. 

When I arrived at the station, I spotted her immediately.

My stomach twisted when I saw her standing there, but it wasn't just her that caught my attention, it was the man standing beside her. They were talking, and she was smiling.

Kelly was smiling. Laughing, even.

A surge of anger shot through me, hot and blinding. Had she moved on already? Had she been waiting for the perfect moment to leave me for someone else? 

My chest burned with an unfamiliar anger. She looks happy, and it only made my chest twist. It was such an unbearable sight.

Before I could think twice, I pulled the car forward sharply, the tires screeching as I slammed on the brakes in front of them.

The two of them jumped, startled. Kelly turned to me, her eyes wide in surprise. But then her face changed immediately, her face was full of disgust, disgust aimed at me.

Disgust? My heart dropped.

I couldn't process it. Kelly had never looked at me like that before. Not even when my mother humiliated her. Not when my family mocked her for every little thing. She had always looked at me with hope, like I was the one good thing in her life.

But now? Now, she couldn't even stand the sight of me. And it was because of him.

I stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut with more force than necessary. My anger boiled over as I stalked toward her.

"Kelly," I said, my voice low and sharp. My hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. "We need to talk."

She winced, and the sound caught me off guard. 

"You're hurting me." she snapped, glaring at me.

I let go instantly, my eyes falling to her wrist. Blood had seeped through the makeshift bandage wrapped around it, staining the edges. That's the moment I remembered, her wrist was bleeding earlier when she came to the house.

But before I could say more, the man, whoever the hell he was stepped in. 

"Ms. Brook, are you okay?" His tone was protective, his gaze firmly fixed on me like I was some jerk.

I glared back at him, my frustration mounting. 

"Who the hell are you?"

He ignored my question and turned his attention back to Kelly. 

"Let's get that treated before it gets worse," he said gently.

Kelly nodded and took a step toward him. I felt the sting of rejection as she brushed past me like I didn't exist.

"Where do you think you're going?" I snapped, stepping in front of them.

"She's bleeding, can't you see that?" He replied sharply, too rude for my liking.

"It wasn't intentional," I muttered.

His eyes narrowed, the calm mask slipping just enough for me to see the fire underneath. 

"I'm taking her to get treated"

"She's my wife," I snapped.

"Soon to be your ex-wife." kelly sneered.

Ofcourse she's still angry for what happened, but she should be happy I'm even volunteering to help.

I turned back to Kelly, who was already moving to the car.

"You're hurt. I'll take you to the hospital."

I expected her to accept. Of course, she would. Kelly always did. She would always seize any opportunity to be with me.

But then her head snapped up, and her eyes, those same eyes were filled with something unrecognizable—disgust. 

"Handle what?" she spat. Her voice was sharp, laced with fury. "Nobody asked for your help! Can you please just get the hell out of my life?"

I scoffed.

Her words stung, more than I cared to admit. Before I could respond, she brushed past me, gesturing to him to open the car door.

I stood there, stunned. She didn't even look back. She climbed into the passenger seat, and he followed.

But they didn't just leave. They gave me the same dramatic exit I had given them, speeding off with a screech of the tires that made me flinch. 

I stood there, watching the car disappear. I had never felt thousands of emotions at once before, but now I felt like I might go crazy.

I drove home in a daze, my grip on the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. By the time I walked into the living room, Kate and my mother were sitting there, chatting like nothing had happened.

Kate's face lit up when she saw me.

"Honey, did you give her the papers? What did that bitch say?"

I ignored her and headed for the kitchen.

Kate followed, she was concerned.

"Anderson, what's wrong? You look pissed."

I grabbed a glass of water, taking a moment to compose myself. 

"Someone hit my car," I lied. "We got into a fight."

She frowned but didn't push further. 

"People are so reckless," she said, wrapping her arms around me. "But don't let it ruin your night, okay? You did the right thing. That woman doesn't deserve you."

I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere.