He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 247

It felt as if a grueling, endless tug-of-war had finally reached its conclusion. Both sides were exhausted to the bone, and the opponent had suddenly let go of the rope.

At that moment, Scarlett didn't feel the thrill of liberation, but rather a sudden, terrifying weightlessness.

Her heart, which had been suspended in mid-air for so long, seemed to crash heavily to the ground, leaving behind a massive, indescribable void.

After a long silence, she typed a single word:

"Okay."

In the living room of his apartment at The Grandview, Yardley sat alone.

The wine bottle in front of him was empty, save for a small splash left in his glass.

The windows were thrown wide open. The frigid autumn wind poured in, chilling him to the bone, yet it did nothing to dispel the suffocating frustration in his chest.

He had typed and deleted his message repeatedly, his fingertips turning white from the pressure, before finally hitting send.

He had anticipated that Scarlett might feel relieved, or perhaps hurl a few hysterical insults his way.

What he hadn't expected was a single, perfectly flat, emotionless "Okay."

So this was what the absolute end of the road looked like.

Even arguing felt redundant; all that remained was a dead silence.

Yardley stared fixedly at that one word, his eyes stinging as if something were teetering on the edge of his lashes.

He sat frozen on the sofa, as silent as an eroded black stone, radiating an aura of suffocating despair.

The wind blew the divorce agreement off the table, the rustling of the paper sounding exceptionally harsh in the empty living room.

The cold, sterile legal terms seemed to mock the five years they had spent together, reducing them to something entirely worthless.

His eyes burning, Yardley finally leaned down and picked it up.

He didn't even read the details. He only skimmed the first few lines regarding the division of assets before his heart took a heavy blow, a wave of suffocation crashing over him.

Numbly, he signed his name on the dotted line.

Once signed, he shoved the agreement into a folder and stacked it with several confidential company documents Nathan had dropped off earlier.

In that moment, he felt as if he had sealed his own soul inside that envelope.

Standing up, he dragged his heavy, zombified body into the bedroom.

The strictly professional tone coming through the receiver felt like a massive brick wall erected between them.

Was she really so unwilling to even make a simple phone call to him?

After a long pause, his voice came out raspy, like he was swallowing gravel. "Ask her. Whenever is fine. I'll cooperate."

Hearing this, Chatwin mentally breathed a sigh of relief for Scarlett. Out of professional courtesy, he offered a piece of sincere advice. "Alright. It's good that you've thought this through. If this really went to court, with your current financial standing, you'd end up paying a much heavier price. Plus, the child is under two; as a rule, custody goes to the mother. Scarlett's demands are completely reasonable. You aren't losing out in this divorce."

A bitter smile touched Yardley's lips. "I've never cared about whether I lose out or not, I care about... never mind. It's pointless now."

Chatwin didn't pry. "Yeah, parting amicably is best for both of you. I just checked with Scarlett; she says tomorrow at 2 PM. Meet at City Hall."

"Fine."

Everything was about to be set in stone.

Yardley forced himself to maintain his composure, but the second the call ended, his chest heaved violently, every muscle in his body pulling taut.

He was a grown man who had always bled rather than wept, yet now, his nose stung inexplicably, and his vision blurred.

He had never suffered such a devastating defeat on the battlefield of life. In the ruins of his relationship, he had been beaten into the dirt, without the slightest ability to fight back.