THE REVENGE BRIDE

The restaurant was dimly lit, Scarlett smoothed the hem of her dress, her nerves were buzzing in anticipation. Three years of marriage,  tonight was meant to celebrate all of it. 

Then she noticed the man. He walked directly to her table. "Mrs. Carter?" His voice was flat, businesslike.

Scarlett blinked. "Yes? What is this about?"

Without any hint of hesitation, he placed a thick envelope on the table in front of her. "You've been served."

Scarlett stared at the papers. The words blurred together. Petition for Divorce. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"This, this must be a mistake," Scarlett stammered, pushing the papers back toward him. "My husband is meeting me here any minute."

The man didn't even flinch. "Have you spoken to the said husband today?"

"I have," she answered confidently, although her nerves were on the edge. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone. Daniel's name glowed on the screen as she hit the dial. It barely rang once before he picked up.

"Daniel?" Her voice was small, almost childlike.

Daniel was at first silent, she could only hear the sound of static. Then, in a tone so cold it sent a chill down her spine, he said, "I believe you must have received the letter from the lawyer. It's over."

Scarlett's breath hitched. "What, what do you mean it's over? Daniel, where are you? What are you doing? I am waiting for you here."

"I'm not coming." Daniel answered in a tone that was so cold.

"Daniel, please, if this is some kind of joke, I beg you just stop it. Please."

"It's not a joke." He exhaled, bored, detached. "I'm done. Sign the papers."

Scarlett's throat tightened. "After three years? This is how you tell me?"

His voice didn't change. "It's already done."

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "Who is she?"

A beat of silence. Then, with terrifying finality, he said, "Goodbye, Scarlett."

The line went dead. Scarlett barely remembered the drive home. The streetlights blurred as the tears ran down her face, her fingers were clutching the steering wheel so tightly that they ached. 

This isn't real. 

This isn't happening.

She slammed the car door shut and rushed up the steps, fumbling with the keys, her hands shaking too hard to find the right one. After a few panicked tries, the door finally gave way.

Inside, the house was eerily quiet. The air smelled faintly of lavender and polished wood, as if nothing had changed, as if her entire world hadn't just collapsed in a matter of minutes.

Then she heard footsteps.

"Mrs. Carter?" The hesitant voice belonged to Elena, their housekeeper of three years. She stood near the staircase, wringing her hands in the crisp white apron she always wore.

Scarlett's eyes darted around. "Where is he?"

Elena hesitated. "I... I don't think..."

"Where is my husband?" Scarlett shouted in a pained voice, her voice cracking slightly.

The older woman swallowed, her gaze dropping to the floor. "He's at the library."

Scarlett took a step forward. "Alone?"

Elena hesitated then she replied in a voice that was barely above a whisper, "No."

Something sharp and cold lodged itself in Scarlett's chest. "Who is she?"