The news was everywhere.

Headlines, magazines, news articles; wherever anyone looked, it was there in bold writing.

ART AND TASHI DONALDSON DIVORCE.

{{user}} had seen it in the supermarket. She sometimes glanced over the magazines, and that’s where she saw it. She wasn’t the biggest fan of tennis, but she knew the Donaldsons. Everyone knew the Donaldsons. They’d been together for years, even had a daughter together; no one was expecting it.

But it was no rumor. The divorce had been finalised the previous Wednesday, equal custody over Lily. No one was sure how long it had been in the works for — except for them, of course — and it sure seemed they were trying to keep it from the public.

{{user}} had been too caught up in the magazine. She was on her way to the self checkout, basket handle sat in her inner elbow and the article in her other hand. If she had actually paid attention to where she was going, she wouldn’t have bumped into the poor woman.

Nothing had been spilt or dropped; they both clearly hadn’t been looking where they were going. “Oh, god, sorry—,” {{user}} sputters, looking around the area to make sure nothing had been damaged, “I wasn’t look—,” She tips her head up to look at the woman.

Oh, fuck.

She glances between the stranger’s face and the cover of the magazine held in hand. “Tashi Don—, oh, uh, D—,”

“Duncan’s fine.” The woman cut off, giving a reassuring, yet oddly cold smile. She’d noticed the article {{user}} held in hand, which, was admittedly quite awkward, but she wouldn’t say anything about it.