Dominant Woman Looking for Love - Chapter 3：Prologue

I stare at the back of the man who was once my husband.

We’ve been walking for some time. The soles of our shoes resoundingly clack against the dark slate flooring as we find ourselves emerging out of yet another heavy door.

What is it about government buildings? They have way too many entryways.

I look around with great disinterest as I continue following after the same person walking in front of me. We already got what we came here for, so I feel relaxed enough to look around—not that anything is interesting around here, mind you.

I sigh, not minding the fact that I’m letting out whatever happiness I have left whenever I do so.

My steps slow down a little as I look off to the side. The hallway is being lined with vibrant green plants.

My once vacuous eyes begin to find their spark, filling its peridot orbs with light—they shift and flit from one evenly fanned out clusters of Austral gem ferns to the next.

Oh. That’s odd.

I didn’t notice on our way in, but there’s been a slight upgrade since the last time I’ve been here. Those ferns used to be in these unsightly terracotta pots. They must’ve outgrown them, as they’re now in these stylish, modern stainless steel planters that have been carefully polished to a satin finish.

A sophisticated, geometric laser-cut motif adds a subtle and tasteful touch to the overall design.

The small break from the monotony of our surroundings, unfortunately, is short-lived. After all, one could only admire a single pottery design for so long. It’s simply not good enough of a distraction.

It’s not long after until my attention goes back to what I’ve been trying to avoid noticing since earlier.

Every single person we’ve passed by so far either looks preoccupied, absent-minded, or relatively troubled. I can’t shake the feeling of uneasiness as we continue to make our way down the hall.

It doesn’t matter which day of the week I visit, but it’s always been a bit wayyy too quiet here for my liking. It’s understandable, I guess. Most of these people are on their ‘best’ behavior – looking quite stiff or tense as they try to keep themselves together.

Why do you ask? Well, they don’t have much choice, I guess.

We’re at the ‘Supreme Court’ after all. These bare walls and stuffy atmosphere aren’t exactly the best at instilling a good vibe on anyone. It’s not the type of place where many good things happen – if you know what I mean.

But really, I kid you not: this thick, uncomfortable blanket of silence will swallow anyone and every one whole one day. For real, yo, I can see it.

The earth will give way; then the very ground we’re walking on will split apart as it turns into a deep chasm and whatever crazy stuff one can think of while having a mini-anxiety attack.

…

Alright. This is dumb; I’ll stop.

On a more serious note, I’m not quite sure if my feelings are just exaggerated, though.

Maybe the real reason for my discomfort is the general mood of this place.

Everything regarding civil, family, and criminal law cases, all get processed within the same building.

With my eyebrows bunching together, the calm demeanor I typically have changes and morphs into a frown.

My line of sight drops to the floor as my grip tightens around a thin manila envelope I’ve been holding onto since earlier.

In it is a single piece of paper with an unusual papyrus texture.

It’s a document that proves we’re officially divorced from today onwards.

As far as how our application was processed, we virtually had zero hiccups.

The entire procedure has been smooth from start to finish. We don’t own any joint properties, nor do we have kids.

All of these add up to the best-case scenario: the perfect setting for having a successful and uncontested divorce registration.

The judge probably feels like these are a most welcome breeze now and then.

It’s a perfect respite from days filled with depressing hearings involving homicide, messy family inheritance disputes, and emotionally charged child custody cases.

It might not even be a stretch that some might get a kick out of how easy cases like mine usually are. We didn’t even need to show up at a hearing.

I can’t even begin to imagine how terrible it’d be for some families who’ve already built a life together, though.

This means the more involved you are in each other’s lives, the more things get entangled beyond recognition.

By the time you finish forcefully tearing things apart, all that’s left is a bloody mess.

I can’t quite decide if I should be happy about not going through this or not, for obvious reasons, to be quite honest.

Breathing out yet another hefty sigh, I lay my hand flat against the top of my chest.

Putting some pressure on it, I rub every once in a while to relieve some of this dull ache.

There’s an emotion that’s been brewing inside me for some time now.

Like strong feelings of emptiness—weaved into an intricate pattern—one where I no longer knew where the thread even began or if it’s ever going to reach an end.

Even if I feel like I’m being smothered right now, I don’t feel like crying.

I’ve already cried enough.

Despite the current lack of waterworks, my heart continues to do its job as thoroughly as possible, as it does its best to wear me down completely.

…

It’s like finding yourself in the middle of an unfamiliar ocean.

With no other signs of life around, you’re not quite sure if you’re floating; or that you’re gradually sinking deeper into the depths of a soundless, tranquil void.

And the only thing you can do is helplessly look up at the streams of wavering sunlight as it dances freely under the water’s surface.

Just like that, time, life, and even the world all continue to march on with or without you.

…

With every step I take towards the exit, I feel lonelier somehow. Empty. Hollow.

A year or two ago, I never would’ve expected that something like this would ever happen to me.

I’ve made no contingency plans. Well, who the heck marries out of love while planning to divorce sometime later? Especially when you expect the person to be there for you ’til death do us part’?

I’m at a crossroads in life. I’m lost, and I’ve no idea what to do next. Where should I go from here? What should I do from now on? Questions like these plagued my mind.

Didn’t they say that when one door closes, another one opens?

I don’t believe in only getting single opportunities each time. So how do you choose? If I see another door, should I open it myself, or should I wait for a door that’s already slightly ajar? Like, an opportunity that’s presenting itself to me?

Life is hard, and there is no proper manual. I’m tired of having no idea what to do.

I bury my face in my hands.

Rubbing up and down the entire length of it, I continue to walk in frustration; I sigh.

The man in front of me turns on his heel and sidles up to me.

“Rysia? Are you okay? You’ve been sighing a lot.” His face, full of concern, suggests something to me, “How about you just hang on for a little while longer ’til we get home, and I’ll fix you something in a jif-”

He cuts himself short, realizing that he’s doing this out of habit, yet again.

Raising one of his arms, my ex-husband places a hand at the back of his neatly groomed neck.

Caressing the length of it, he laughs derisively at himself, “Hah… There I go doing that for the millionth time. It’s still taking some time for it to sink in for me, I guess. You know, our divorce.”

He continues to chuckle lightly as he awkwardly rubs the base of his head. It’s starting to mess up his neatly pressed collar.

I smile bitterly.

“Mm, don’t worry about it. I still slip up from time to time, too.” My face scrunches up as my mouth stretches out into a thin line.

We stand there for a moment as we look intently into each other’s eyes.

A searing pain momentarily cuts through my heart as the gravity of this situation hits me.

We have reached the end of our marriage. From today onwards, this man is no longer my life partner.

After staring at each other for some time, we break eye contact, and we both look down.

“Well, I guess this is it.” I stop there, purposefully disallowing myself from saying more. My eyes start to sting and burn. I suddenly jump into his arms as I give him one last hug.

Our marriage may have ended, but we’ve decided that I’ll continue to be his manager.

We’ll be working together as we do make a great team. Unlike our married life, everything is smooth sailing in this department.

After we’ve had enough of holding each other one last time, we go our separate ways.