Nicole Quinn and Cruz Yarbrough had filed for divorce 99 times.
Each time, Cruz would quietly wait for her to cave in during the waiting period, knowing she’d come crawling back. She would coax him, and only then would he agree to cancel the paperwork.
At the 100th filing, as Nicole stood up to leave, a staff member behind the desk asked curiously, “So, when are you coming back to cancel it this time?”
Nicole glanced at Cruz’s cold figure walking away and told herself inwardly.
Would not cancel this time.
When the 30-day waiting period ended, it would finally be official.
The wind outside the courthouse was biting. Nicole stepped out and watched Cruz slip into his sleek black car without even glancing back at her.
She walked slowly along the sidewalk. It felt like something inside her had been ripped open, and the cold air just poured in.
Suddenly, screeching tires rang out behind her.
Before she could react, she was shoved to the ground. Her knees throbbed, and her palms burned.
Looking up through messy hair, she saw Cruz’s friends scrambling out of the car.
“Crap! We just hit Mrs. Yarbrough!”
“Stop calling her that,” someone muttered. “They’re getting divorced. Cruz hasn’t agreed to cancel it yet.”
Nicole tried to stand, her legs trembling. Through her messy bangs, she saw the rear window of the car rolled halfway down. Cruz’s cold profile was just barely visible in the shadows.
One of the guys asked, “Should we take her to the hospital first, or just head to the party?”
Time froze for a moment. Nicole stared at that car window, her heart aching.
“To the party.” Cruz’s cold voice came through the car window.
Those simple words cut deeper than a knife.
The car sped off, the exhaust fumes hitting her face.
Gritting her teeth, Nicole pulled herself up and limped all the way home.
Every step made her knees scream, but that was nothing compared to the way her heart felt—shredded and raw.
As soon as she got home, she started packing.
She pulled out everything that reminded her of their years together.
The jewelry he casually threw to her, the lighter he used that she secretly kept, the jar of 999 paper stars she folded for him…
One by one, she tossed them all in the trash. Then, she pulled out a paper bag from the deepest part of the drawer.
Her hands shook as she opened it again, even though she’d seen what was inside.
They were Cruz’s love letters.
“You brought breakfast again today. But you didn’t know I got up at five just to watch you quietly set it by my window.
“Your handwriting in those letters is terrible, but I kept them. I’ll tease you about them on our 50th anniversary.
“That red dress looked good, but I wish no one else could see you in it.
“You’ve been chasing me for three years. I almost gave in. But I wanted to hold out a bit longer and enjoy being pursued.”
Every line felt like a punch to the heart.
If she hadn’t randomly found those love letters a few days earlier, she never would’ve believed that Cruz, who’d always acted cold and distant, actually liked her.
The first time Nicole saw Cruz was during their university’s opening ceremony.
He was speaking onstage as the student rep, looking sharp and untouchable.
With just a glance, she fell in love.
Many people pursued Cruz, but Nicole was the most stubborn one.
She kept bringing him breakfast, even though he never touched it.
She memorized all his classes just to run into him. When he got hurt playing basketball, she climbed over the wall to get him medicine and ended up breaking her wrist for it.
She spent four years and 1,460 days chasing after him until they finally got together.
Even then, he was still distant, never showing much warmth. She even proposed to him first, and she didn’t mind.
But after three years of marriage, Cruz had already asked for a divorce 99 times.
The first time was over salty food. He said she couldn’t even handle something that simple.
The second was because he didn’t like her dress.