Lying on the ambulance stretcher, I checked the divorce agreement my friend had drafted on my phone.
Looking at the clearly delineated clauses, the emptiness in my heart ached even more.
Tears flowed uncontrollably, like a broken dam.
All my years of effort and dedication had ultimately led to this pitiful end.
On the operating table, after inhaling the anesthetic, I slipped into unconsciousness.
In my dream, I seemed to see Jane, holding the divorce papers, praying that I wouldn't go through with the divorce.
Seeing her guilt-ridden expression, I felt no pity in my heart, instead turning away resolutely.
As the effects of the anesthesia wore off, I woke from my dream and gazed at the empty hospital room.
I belatedly realized that Jane no longer meant anything to me.
After regaining consciousness, I had someone mail out the divorce agreement.
As expected, upon receiving the agreement, Jane threw out everything in the house that belonged to me.