Mr. Nobody: Owns It All

Divorce?

Shane-Leo's hands trembled as he reached out, the crisp divorce agreement surprising him. "Why?" he croaked, his voice hoarse, barely a whisper above the frantic pounding of his heart. Her eyes, usually sparkling with warmth and love, now glistened with unshed tears, but held a coldness that confused him further.

"We started with nothing, remember?" Norah's voice was clipped, devoid of the usual tenderness. "We built a life together. But things change, Shane-Leo."

The sting of her words was sharp. "Change?" he echoed; his voice thick with disbelief. 

"Three years ago, you had a dream, a fledgling company struggling to stay afloat. You needed capital, and I, without hesitation, sold our house for a pittance, gave you every penny to make that dream a reality."

A flicker of something crossed Norah's face, a fleeting emotion he couldn't decipher. But it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve. Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. 

Finally, Norah reached into her bag and pulled out a check, its stark white surface mocking the turmoil churning within him.

"Here," she said, placing it on the table with a soft clatter.

He stared at the cheque, the numbers swimming before his eyes. One million dollars. A cold fury simmered within him. 

"A million dollars?" he spat, the bitterness dripping from his tongue. 

"Do you think that buys back three years of my life, Norah? Three years of working odd jobs, putting your dreams above mine?"

A muscle twitched in her jaw, but her voice remained steady. "That was the house's market value three years ago. This is five times that amount."

He felt a surge of hurt so profound it took his breath away. This woman, who had vowed to love him in sickness and in health, now saw him as a mere financial transaction, a debt to be settled. He stood up, his gaze meeting hers. The warmth and love that once resided in those eyes had been replaced by a stranger, a woman he no longer recognized.

"Sign it," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. He looked at Norah, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears, searching for an explanation, a reason, anything to shatter the confusion that clouded his mind.

"We started with nothing, Shane-Leo," Norah began, her voice strained. "We were there for each other, a team." The past tense scraped against his raw nerves. "But things have changed."

"Changed?" Shane-Leo repeated, the hurt twisting in his gut like a viper. Three years of marriage, of shared dreams and quiet laughter, condensed into a single, loaded word.

"Yes," Norah said, her voice gaining a steely edge. "You haven't changed, Shane-Leo. You haven't grown. You're still...stuck."

The accusation hit him like a physical blow. Stuck? He had given up everything for her, for their future. 

"I gave you everything I could, Norah," he said, his voice heavy with a rising tide of anger and despair. "My security, my stability. I believed in you."

Norah's lips thinned into a tight line. "And I did well, didn't I? I built something, Shane-Leo. I became a CEO. But where were you all this time?"

Shame burned in Shane-Leo's cheeks. He had taken odd jobs, nothing substantial, but enough to keep them afloat while Norah poured her heart and soul into the company. He'd told himself it was temporary, a backseat role while she took the lead, while he patiently waited for his family’s verdict.

"I was there for you," he defended, his voice cracking. "Every night, every meal I cooked, every chore I did...wasn't that support?"

Norah's gaze was a cold, blue glacier. "That's not what I mean. I need a partner, Shane-Leo. A real man, someone who shares the burden, the success. Not...not a gigolo."

The word hung heavy in the air, dripping with venom. Shane-Leo recoiled, the sting of betrayal fresh and raw. Gigolo? He, the man who'd poured his love and dreams into her, was now reduced to a kept man, living off her success.

"That's not fair," he choked out, his voice thick with unshed tears. A flicker of something crossed Norah's face, a memory perhaps, or a flicker of guilt. But it was quickly extinguished. "It's time you moved on, built your own life."

He looked at her, this woman he barely recognized anymore. The warmth in her eyes, the shared laughter, the dreams whispered under starlit skies – all replaced by a cold ambition and a ruthless pragmatism.

Her actions felt like a slap in the face. Money couldn't erase the years, the sacrifices, the love he'd poured into their dream. It couldn't mend the chasm that had opened between them, a chasm wider than the ocean separating them from their past.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "You think money can buy everything, Norah? Even love?" He asked wondering where his Norah was.

Her gaze remained unwavering. "Love is a luxury, Shane-Leo. One you can't afford anymore."

He stood up, his legs shaky, his heart a leaden weight in his chest. He looked at the woman who was once his wife, now a stranger draped in a designer dress, and a profound sense of loss washed over him.

He reached for the pen on the table, his hand trembling as he picked it up. Signing the papers would be the final nail in the coffin of their dreams, the official severance of their bond.

"You can stay tonight," Norah said, a hint of something that might have been kindness in her voice. 

"No," he said, his voice hoarse. "I wouldn't stay here even if you begged me to." He picked the cheque from the table, He ripped the check in half, the paper tearing with a satisfying rip. 

"What are you doing?" Norah demanded, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Perhaps she hadn't anticipated this act of rebellion.

Norah's eyes widened in surprise, disbelief crossing her face for the briefest moment. But it was quickly replaced by a steely resolve.

"As you wish," she said coolly. "Don't come crawling back later begging for a handout."

"I don't want your charity," he spat, the words bitter on his tongue. "This isn't about money. This is about us, about what we had." His voice cracked, the raw emotion a stark contrast to Norah's icy composure.

He tossed the shredded pieces of the check onto the table, the rain of paper a symbolic representation of their shattered dreams. Without another word, he turned towards the door, 

Just as he grasped the doorknob, Norah's voice stopped him.

"Wait," she said,

He turned back; his gaze guarded. She picked up the velvet box on the table and walked towards him, the glint of gold catching the light. He recognized what it was instantly – the Jade Bracelet, the symbol of his family legacy, the heirloom he had dreamt of presenting to her.

You forgot this,” she continued, her words clipped. “And don’t buy this kind of cheap stuff again.”

The finality in her voice, the dismissal of something that held immense value to him, was the last straw. A wave of anger and hurt crashed over him. 

He snatched the box from her, “Cheap stuff?” He barked a humorless laugh.

Cheap stuff? It wasn't cheap, it was a priceless heirloom, a representation of his heritage. But in her eyes, it was just another trinket, a gaudy display of something he didn't deserve.

He was too stunned to reply. He simply stared at her, the woman he'd loved with every fibre of his being, now a stranger shrouded in a veil of ambition and cold indifference.

The sting of her words burned. He stared at the bracelet, imagining how beautiful it would look on her if things had gone differently. His fingers clenched into fists, the urge to punch his frustration into a wall, a battle within him.

Shane-Leo took the box, the cool metal a stark contrast to the burning anger in his heart. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid the words that tumbled out would be laced with venom.

With a final glance at the woman who was once his world, he turned and left the house.

He walked through the deserted streets, the cool night air doing little to soothe his sadness and the inferno raging within him.