Chapter 2

                                    

                                          

3rd pov
Outside the courthouse, a group of attorneys gathered for a break. Y/n's personal attorney, a well-dressed man with a serious expression, stood chatting with a couple of colleagues. They spoke in hushed tones, their conversation filled with curiosity.
"Y/n is filing for divorce," Y/n's attorney said, causing surprise among the group.
"Divorce? But they always seemed so happy. What happened?" one of the attorneys asked.
Y/n's attorney shrugged. "Y/n said her wife is a witch."
The group looked at each other, confused. "A witch?" they repeated, clearly puzzled. 
"Yes," Y/n's attorney confirmed simply. The conversation paused, leaving the attorneys to ponder the unexpected news.















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As Y/n entered the elevator, she sighed, hoping for a brief moment of solitude. But her relief was short-lived. Mikha walked in just as the doors were closing, her expression as tense as Y/n's.
Mikha turned to Y/n, her voice cold. "You're making things worse by talking about our issues. People are starting to notice, and it's damaging our reputation."
Y/n's eyes flashed with frustration. "I'm not the one spreading rumors. If anything, your actions have made it obvious that we're not in good terms."
Mikha's expression hardened. "Don't act like you're innocent. You've been vocal about our problems, and it's affecting everyone in the office."
Y/n took a deep breath, trying to control her anger. "Maybe if you were more concerned about fixing our problems rather than just covering them up, we wouldn't be in this mess."
The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, but neither moved. Y/n looked at Mikha with determination. "We need to talk, Let's meet at The Skyline Lounge tonight."
Mikha's gaze softened slightly, acknowledging the need for a serious discussion. "Fine."
Mikha stepped out of the elevator, the weight of their argument pressing heavily on her shoulders. As the doors closed behind her, she glanced back and caught a fleeting glimpse of Y/n's expression. There was something in Y/n's eyes—frustration, determination, and a hint of sadness—that struck Mikha deeply.


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Y/n's pov 
I arrived at The Skyline Lounge an hour early, my nerves on edge as I waited for Mikha. The opulent surroundings did little to soothe my anxiety. The view of the city below was stunning, but I barely noticed it. My thoughts were consumed by the difficult conversation I was about to have.
I sat alone at our reserved table, trying to calm myself, but the ticking of the clock seemed to emphasize my growing impatience. I kept checking my watch, feeling each minute stretch longer. I was here to talk about the divorce, to confront the issues that had led us to this point.
The luxurious atmosphere of the lounge felt almost surreal compared to the seriousness of the discussion ahead. I was ready to tell Mikha that I wanted to proceed with the divorce, to finally address the reality that our marriage was beyond repair. 
The more I waited, the more the weight of the conversation settled on me. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but it was necessary. I needed to be honest about our relationship and make it clear that moving forward separately was the best option for both of us.