She paused like she was waiting for me to explain myself. “Oh, it’s normal for couples to have disagreements. When things get tough, it’s always best to take a step back. You have to understand, it wasn’t easy for you to marry him in the first place.”
I didn’t let her finish, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. “Mom, I get it. I was stubborn to marry Ethan. And honestly, today, I don’t blame anyone. But if I had known back then, on our wedding day, that it would end up like this, I never would’ve married him. Not even against your wishes.”
After we tied the knot, Ethan’s dad, Dominic Anderson, passed on all the family responsibilities to Ethan and took off with Eleanor to live abroad. There were plenty of times I didn’t want them to worry about us, so I kept the issues with Ethan to myself. But Eleanor always found out somehow. And every time, just like today, she’d call, trying to convince me to let it go.
I still remember her saying, “Ethan marrying you proves he’s moved on from his past. Since there’s no solid proof of his affair with Ava, just ignore it. Many men cheat. Compared to them, Ethan is a gem.” She’d keep saying that once Emma got older, things would settle down.
So I waited. I waited for things to get better.
Until Emma never grew up.
Until I never got to explain anything to anyone.
And now, I realized, it was Ethan who needed to explain. Not me.
Without another word, I hung up. It was the first time I’d been this cold with Eleanor, but I didn’t feel bad about it.
The room was silent again, but in that silence, all I could see was Emma—her smile, her laughter, like she was still here. I held the urn tightly, whispering softly, “Emma, don’t be scared. When Daddy finally figures things out, I’ll take you far away from here. We’ll never look back.”
I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm inside me, but I barely noticed when my vision started to blur.
Then, a door creaked open, pulling me from my thoughts.
I blinked, still dazed.
And there he was—Ethan. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, filled with a mixture of disbelief and regret. He looked right at me, his voice rough with emotion. “Why? Why didn’t you tell me about Emma?”
I couldn’t help but notice the bruise on his chin. A part of me felt satisfaction—like I’d finally seen him crack.
With a cold smile, I met his gaze. “I told you, Ethan. You blocked me. You wouldn’t listen. Don’t you remember?”
His face crumpled, and he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching his head as if the weight of it all was too much. His voice trembled when he spoke again. “How am I supposed to explain this to my mom now?”
And that’s when it hit me.
I laughed. A bitter, broken laugh. Tears followed, and I couldn’t stop them. So, even now, after Emma was gone, his biggest worry was how he’d explain it to his precious family? It was so clear to me now—I had been a fool to think he actually cared about her, about me.
The laugh twisted into something grotesque as my body shook with emotion.
And when I had no strength left to laugh, I finally looked at him, my voice ice-cold. “Ethan, sign the divorce papers.”
