I frowned.
But Amanda shook her head frantically, desperation flickering in her eyes.
"No, this isn't over! I don't want our relationship to end like this. Just give me one month. If you still want a divorce after that, I'll sign the papers."
One month? It didn't matter.
As long as I could walk away from this marriage, nothing else did.
"Suit yourself."
With that, I turned to leave.
But Amanda reached out, grabbing my wrist.
"Have dinner with me."
I exhaled sharply, my frown deepening.
Ever since I made up my mind to divorce her, being around Amanda felt suffocating.
Even the thought of being alone with her made my skin crawl.
"There's no need."
I pulled my hand away, my voice edged with impatience.
A flicker of hurt crossed Amanda's face.
"I just want to sit down and talk. One real conversation. Please... just this once?"
There was a time when I would've given in the moment she looked at me like that.
When the sight of her upset would've been enough to soften me.
But now, all she saw in my eyes was cold indifference.
"Please..."
Her voice trembled, her gaze pleading.
"If you agree, I'll sign the divorce papers. No more arguments."
I let out a slow breath.
"Fine. Let's go."
I told myself this was just another step toward ending things for good.
Amanda's eyes lit up with something dangerously close to hope as I got into her car.
But instead of heading to a restaurant, she pulled into a grocery store.
"Let's take a walk," she said, pushing a shopping cart forward.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets, making no effort to respond.
Amanda didn't seem to mind. She walked ahead, her fingers grazing the shelves as she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I still remember... when we first got married, my stomach was always a mess. You used to make time—no matter how busy you were—to come to the store, pick out fresh ingredients, and cook for me..."
Her voice caught on the last word.
Had that much time really passed?
She was only realizing it now—
That she had let go of the one man who had truly loved her.
I said nothing. I felt nothing.
If anything, all I had left was regret.
Five years.
I had wasted five whole years on this woman.
And how many five years does a person have to waste?