Chapter 701

 701:
Linsey handed the documents to the judge. “We’ve both agreed to the divorce. I have no objections. Thank you.”
Collin stared at her. She looked calm, but to him, she was drifting further and further away.
He drew in a slow breath, placed his own papers on the table, and said quietly, “I have no objections either.”
His words hit Linsey like needles. Her heart tightened.
She bowed her head, clenched her fists, and fought back the tears.
The judge took both their documents and completed the process. Then he looked at them and said, “Everything’s finalized. Do either of you have questions?”
Linsey stood up quickly. Her face was tense. She shook her head and turned to leave.
Just then, she felt a familiar warmth wrap around her wrist—Collin’s touch. It was dry and steady, yet full of emotion. Her hand trembled from the sudden wave of feeling.
Linsey’s breath quickened suddenly. She turned sharply, her body reacting instinctively, trying to pull away.
But before she could struggle further, Collin let go. His eyes dropped to her right hand. “Is your hand better now?” he asked quietly.
At that simple question, all the anger, all the words Linsey had bottled up, scattered like dust in the wind.
A wave of sadness rose in her chest. She turned her face away, blinking back tears. “I’m perfectly fine,” she said, her voice tight with emotion.
Collin didn’t seem to notice the strain in her tone. A small sigh slipped from his lips, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “That’s good,” he murmured.
Then, slowly and carefully, he added, “Take care of yourself, Linsey. I heard you resigned. Whether you keep working in design or choose something else… I wish you well.”
No matter how hard she tried, Linsey couldn’t hold her tears back anymore.
She looked at him through her tears and said softly, “You too.” Then she turned and walked away, without a pause, without looking back.
Collin stood frozen, staring in the direction she had gone. Even long after she stepped into Gorman’s car and disappeared down the street, he didn’t move.
It wasn’t until several other couples arrived to file for divorce that Collin finally pulled himself together and walked out, his steps heavy and slow.
Inside his car, he reached into his pocket and carefully pulled out a small, elegant box.
Opening it, he revealed a pair of wedding rings—delicate, beautifully crafted, nestled together.
He stared at them blankly. A single tear slid down his cheek and landed on the rings, its trace glistening on the metal.
Suddenly, his breath hitched, and a choked gasp escaped him as sorrow washed over his face.
His hand trembled as he lifted the male ring from the box. He silently slipped it onto his left ring finger.
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