Chapter 6
He tried to smile, but not too much—just enough to keep from scaring me off. It tugged weakly at the corner
of his mouth, cautious and uncertain.
“Maddie… I thought we were supposed to spend tonight together. Why are you leaving?”
I had never seen Ethan look so careful around me.
Not in years.
And yet, something about that moment pulled me all the way back to the very beginning. To his very first
confession, out of a hundred.
He had looked just like this then–unsure, vulnerable, watching me with wide eyes, trying to read my every
reaction.
Like he actually cared.
Like he truly loved me.
Maybe, once upon a time… he really did.
Maybe, even now, some part of him still does.
But after all these years, after all the times I forgave him, trying to reach for that love again felt… pointless.
I started to say something polite–something simple, maybe even kind.
But even moving my lips felt exhausting. So I didn’t bother.
Instead, I let my gaze meet his, quiet and steady.
“We’re divorced, Ethan. What reason would I have to stay?”
“You should be with Tiffany,” I added. “She’s waited for you all these years. Now you’re finally hers.”
“You two should be celebrating.”
His face twitched–confused. Then he blinked, as if I’d just said something in a language he didn’t speak.
“Divorced?” he echoed, “What are you talking about? We never got divorced.”
I pulled a slim envelope from my purse and handed it to him.
“Your copy is at the villa,” I said softly, “This one’s mine.”
He snatched it from me, eyes scanning the words, head shaking before he even reached the signature page. Chapter 6
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“No–no, this… This can’t be real.”
“I never agreed to a divorce!”
I laughed–soft and bitter.
Not out of amusement, but because the irony was impossible to ignore.
“You didn’t have to say it, Ethan,” I replied. “You acted it out perfectly.”
“This marriage… what exactly were we keeping it alive for?”
He kept shaking his head.
Westbridge’s golden prince, the man who once ruled rooms with a glance, was now reduced to a child
unable to process loss.
Suddenly, he grabbed my shoulders.
“This isn’t valid! You tricked me! You snuck it in–I didn’t know what I was signing!”
“This doesn’t count, Maddie! We’re not divorced!”
His voice rose with each word, spiraling into panic.
I stared at him. Watched the cracks deepen.
And for the first time, I saw him for what he truly was.
A man unraveling.
“Ethan Whitmore,” I said.
His name landed like a weight in the air.
He stopped.
And for a second, just a second, hope flashed in his eyes. As if he thought maybe I was about to take it all
all I did… was tilt my head slightly and smile–just a little.
“Look at yourself. Don’t you see it?”
“You look insane.”
His smile froze on his face.
And for once, the person who stood there–calm, detached, unmoved–was me.
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Each word I spoke hit him like a knife. Because now, I was the one leaving. And he was the one begging.
“Tell me, Ethan… Between the woman who once clung to you in tears and the man who’s falling apart now -who’s really the crazy one?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again.
There was no answer. No defense.
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