Divorce Before Valentine's

Chapter 5

(Caroline’s POV)

I grab Charlie's blanket and dinosaur and follow Aunt Jasmine into the house. It smells like it always does—lavender and old books and safety. This house has been my refuge since I was twelve years old, since the car accident that took my parents and left me an orphan. Aunt Jasmine took me in without hesitation, raised me alongside her own son Aiden, and never once made me feel like a burden.

Now I'm here again, broken and lost, seeking shelter from another storm.

Aunt Jasmine carries Charlie upstairs to the guest room—my old room, actually, the one that still has faded posters of boy bands on the walls and a bookshelf full of young adult novels I couldn't bear to throw away. She lays him down gently, tucks the blanket around him, places his dinosaur within reach.

"Let me make some tea," she says quietly, ushering me back downstairs. "Then you're going to tell me what happened."

I follow her into the kitchen and sink into one of the chairs at the table where I used to do my homework, where Aunt Jasmine taught me how to make her famous apple pie, where I told her I was pregnant with Charlie and she cried happy tears and hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe.

That feels like a lifetime ago. Like a different person's life.

Aunt Jasmine puts the kettle on and sits down across from me. She doesn't push. Doesn't ask questions. Just waits, patient and steady, the way she's always been.

And then it all comes pouring out.

I tell her everything. Finding them in the study. The things Samuel said about Charlie. The revelation about Wendy. Five years of lies, all laid bare in one horrible moment. The words tumble out of me in a rush, and I can't stop them, can't control them. By the time I finish, I'm sobbing so hard I can barely breathe.

Aunt Jasmine doesn't say anything at first. She just gets up, comes around the table, and pulls me into her arms. I collapse against her, and she holds me the way she did when I was twelve and newly orphaned and didn't understand how the world could be so cruel.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," she whispers into my hair. "I'm so, so sorry."

"How could they do this to me?" My voice is muffled against her shoulder. "How could Hailey—she was my best friend, Aunt Jasmine. My sister. And Samuel, he's supposed to love Charlie. He's supposed to—"

"I know." Her hand rubs circles on my back. "I know, honey."

The kettle whistles, and Aunt Jasmine reluctantly pulls away to make the tea. She sets a steaming mug in front of me—chamomile, my favorite—and sits back down.

"I can help you with the divorce," she says, and her voice is different now. Stronger. This is Jasmine the lawyer, the woman who's made a career out of fighting for people who've been wronged. "I'll draft the papers myself. We can file first thing Monday morning."

"Thank you." I wrap my hands around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my frozen fingers. "I turned on the cameras I bought when Charlie was three to gather evidence of his infidelity. I’ll probably need to wait a few days to have enough evidence to build a strong case. I don't want anything from him. Not the house, not money. I just want a clean divorce and Charlie’s custody."

"Caroline—"

"I mean it." I look up at her, and I can see the concern in her eyes. "I don't want to be tied to him in any way. I'll figure out the rest on my own."

Aunt Jasmine is quiet for a moment, studying my face. "Okay," she says finally. "If that's what you want. But I'm here, you know that. Whatever you need."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

The irony isn't lost on me.

"Can I ask you something?" My voice comes out small, uncertain.

"Anything."

"Do you think I acted too impulsively?" I stare down into my tea, watching the steam curl upward. "Should I have thought about it more? Considered what's best for Charlie before just grabbing him and running away? After all, Charlie is still seeking treatment. Maybe a father’s presence…?"

"No." Aunt Jasmine's answer is immediate and firm. "Absolutely not. You did exactly the right thing."

"But Charlie needs stability. He needs routine. And I just ripped him out of his home in the middle of the night—"

"You removed him from a toxic environment." Aunt Jasmine reaches across the table and takes my hand. "Caroline, that man was having an affair right under your nose. It shows how little respect he has for you. And that’s not even mentioning the horrible, unforgivable things he said about his own son. You didn't act impulsively. You did the right thing for yourself and your son."

Her words settle something inside me, but the doubt is still there, gnawing at the edges.

"When I found out my husband was cheating," Aunt Jasmine continues, and her voice is softer now, "I did the same thing you did. I packed up Aiden and left that same night. He was only four. I worried constantly that I'd damaged him, that I'd made the wrong choice. But you know what? He turned out just fine. Better than fine. Because I showed him that his mother isn’t defined by his father. She has her own identity, her own strength, and she can thrive in society on her own with or without a man in her life.”