Chapter 510 Formal Divorce
Emma sat alone on the bench by the window, her hands clasped in her lap, her fingertips cold with nervousness.
She had chosen a simple white dress today, wearing no jewelry, not even her favorite light lipstick.
She didn't want to look like she was trying too hard, as if this divorce was just another goodbye, as if their past hadn't been filled with unforgettable moments.
At exactly nine o'clock, steady footsteps echoed from the doorway.
The familiar rhythm made Emma's heart beat faster. She instinctively tightened her grip on her bag strap, her knuckles turning pale from the pressure.
George walked in, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that accentuated his tall, lean frame.
He wore his usual sunglasses, the lenses reflecting a cold gleam in the sunlight. His steps were measured and confident, each one seemingly calculated, showing no sign of hesitation.
Only he knew the effort it took to maintain such composure.
"You're here," Emma stood up, her voice soft, as if afraid to disturb the calm of the moment.
George nodded slightly, a faint, practiced smile playing on his lips, "Sorry to keep you waiting."
When the clerk handed over the forms, Emma noticed George's hand pause for a split second before he took the documents.
Their fingers brushed briefly, both of them pulling away quickly as if they had touched something hot.
"Sign here," George's voice remained calm as he picked up the pen and smoothly signed his name.
His handwriting was sharp and strong, each stroke etched into the paper without a tremor.
Only the slight pause of the pen tip betrayed his inner turmoil.
As Emma bent down to sign, she caught a glimpse of George's fluid motion of returning the pen to its holder.
She didn't know that he had practiced this simple action countless times at home.
The clerk processed their divorce papers swiftly, pushing the final decree towards them.
Emma reached for it, and George did the same. Their fingers touched briefly again before they pulled away.
"You first," George said, his smile still in place, as if this was just a polite gesture.
His voice was steady, but only he knew how hard his heart was pounding.
Emma picked up the divorce decree, glanced at it, and quickly closed it. The black letters on the paper burned into her eyes like a branding iron.
"Let's go," George turned and walked towards the door, his steps steady and sure, as if he was just taking a casual stroll.
In reality, he was using all his strength to keep himself on a straight path.
Emma stood still, watching his figure recede.
The sunlight outlined his familiar silhouette, unchanged from her memory, yet now feeling as distant as if separated by an entire world.
Emma suddenly remembered the day they went to City Hall to get married. The sun was just as bright, and he walked ahead just like now.
But back then, he would turn back to wait for her, calling her name, "Emma."
Now, he didn't look back, as if all their ties had been severed with the issuance of that divorce decree.
Outside the courthouse, a chilly breeze brushed her cheek. George stood on the steps, the wind lifting the hem of his coat, revealing his meticulously pressed white shirt.
He heard Emma's footsteps behind him, so light as if afraid to disturb something, yet heavy enough to press on his heart with each step.
He stopped and turned slightly, his eyes behind the sunglasses accurately "looking" towards the sound, "Anything else?"
His voice was gentle and polite, as if speaking to a casual acquaintance.
Emma shook her head, "Nothing, it's just..." She paused, her voice slightly choked, "Take care of yourself from now on."
As she uttered these words, she felt something shatter within her chest.
George's smile deepened, "You too," he said softly, "Be happy."
With that, he turned and walked away, his back straight as a pine, quickly disappearing into the crowd.
On the courthouse steps, Emma watched George's retreating figure, the divorce decree in her hand crumpled from her unconscious grip.
A tear slipped down silently, staining the paper with a dark blotch. She hurriedly wiped it away with the back of her hand, but more tears followed uncontrollably.
In a nearby car, Michael watched the scene unfold, nodding in satisfaction.
In a black sedan further away, Wanda observed everything through the window.
Her red lips curved into a knowing smile, her fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel.
"Such a touching scene," she murmured to herself, "Now, it's my turn."
A sleek silver luxury car pulled up smoothly in front of George. The window rolled down, revealing Wanda's flawless profile.
She had put on meticulous makeup today, her red lips vibrant, her eyes slightly upturned with a hint of deliberate allure.
"Mr. Russell, what a coincidence," Wanda's voice was sickly sweet as she pushed open the car door with practiced elegance.
George frowned slightly, seemingly surprised, "What are you doing here?"
"Just passing by, saw you, and remembered you had a check-up today," Wanda smiled warmly, but her eyes flicked briefly towards Emma, "What brings you here?"
"None of your business."
"Alright, then. Pretend I didn't ask. Since we're both heading to the hospital, hop in. It's on the way."
"No need, I can get there myself."
At that moment, a passerby wearing a baseball cap bumped into George's shoulder. His smart glasses fell to the ground with a crisp sound.
"Sorry!" The passerby hastily apologized but quickly bent down to pick up the glasses and turned to run.
George immediately lost his sense of direction, instinctively reaching out for something to steady himself, his steps faltering.
Wanda quickly caught him, her body almost pressed against his.
"Careful!" she exclaimed, pulling George towards her, avoiding an oncoming motorcycle.
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