TOWARD THE DISTANCE Chapter 13

Cade drove like a man possessed — running lights, ignoring horns, weaving through early morning traffic with the kind of reckless focus that only desperation produces. He burst through the law firm's front door still half out of breath.

"Where is she?" he demanded before the receptionist could speak. "Elena — is she here? I need to see her —"

The lawyer — calm, measured, middle-aged, with kind eyes that had seen every version of this scene — stepped out to meet him.

"Mr. Harrington. Elena isn't here. She delegated the entirety of these proceedings to our firm. If you have concerns, you can raise them with me directly."

He handed Cade a manila folder. Inside: the divorce agreement.

Cade opened it, read the first paragraph, and tore it in half. Then in quarters. Then he scattered the pieces across the floor like confetti and looked at the lawyer with red-rimmed eyes.

"I am not divorcing her. This isn't happening."

"Mr. Harrington —"

"I made a mistake. One mistake. Every man makes mistakes. I know that now — I know it's wrong, I know I hurt her — but I will never sign this. Not in a million years."

The lawyer didn't flinch. He simply reached into his folder again and produced a second copy of the exact same document.

"Elena anticipated this," he said mildly. "She asked me to tell you: the first copy would definitely get destroyed. So she prepared extras. As many as you'd like to tear up. The originals are with us. Tearing up copies changes nothing."

Cade stared at him.

"How…"

"She's very thorough," the lawyer said. "She also wanted me to remind you that divorce doesn't require your cooperation. If you refuse to sign, she can file for judicial divorce. The court will grant it on the grounds of irreparecable breakdown — especially given that you are the party at fault."

"She wouldn't —"

"She will. And she'll win."

Cade's hands dropped to his sides. The fight drained out of him like water through a crack.

"She won't even see me?" he asked, barely above a whisper. "Not even once?"

"Her exact words were: 'Everything I needed to say is in the letter.'"

"That wasn't a letter. It was two sentences."

The lawyer offered a small, sympathetic smile. "I know. But those were the words she chose."

Cade tried everything after that. Money. Connections. Begging.

"If you tell me where she is, I'll pay you fifty million —"

"I don't know where she is, Mr. Harrington."

"A hundred million —"

"The amount is irrelevant. I genuinely don't have that information. After completing the paperwork, she only communicated with us by phone. And I tried calling her this morning. No one answered."

"Give me the number. I'll pay —"

"It's the same number she's always had. And it's no longer active."

The room went cold.

Cade sat in the lawyer's office for a long time after that, saying nothing. The lawyer, to his credit, didn't try to fill the silence. He simply waited, patient as stone, until Cade was ready to leave.

"I won't sign," Cade said at the door. "But I want you to know — I'm going to find her. And when I do, I'm going to fix this."

The lawyer said nothing to that. He had seen too many men say the same thing. In his experience, the ones who said it loudest were rarely the ones who followed through.

But Elena had already thought of that too.