He froze, his eyes pleading. I was calmer than I
expected. I paused the video at a specific frame
and held it up to him. “The good news is, your
little stunt with Chloe got me some great
publicity, too.”
The video was frozen on a shot of them
embracing. Just behind them, my shocked,
heartbroken face was visible. The comments
were frozen as well: “Is that woman in the back
crying?”
Ethan shot to his feet, horrified. “You were
there?!” He stammered, speechless.
I smiled faintly. “So spare me the theatrics.
Sign the papers. I’m clearing the way for your
precious Chloe.”
Ethan ripped up the agreement. He refused to
sign. It didn’t matter. If he wouldn’t cooperate,
I’d take him to court. It would be more work,
but with Chloe back in the States, proving his
infidelity wouldn’t be difficult.
The day after he tore up the agreement, he
disappeared. I didn’t look for him. Once Alex
had recovered and filming resumed, I handed
off my responsibilities in Paris and flew home.
I didn’t go back to our shared apartment. I went
to my small pre–marriage condo. After settling
in, I scrolled through social media and saw
Chloe’s post. She was holding a black pendant
necklace, beaming. The caption read: “If he has
it, I want it!”
I commented: “Honey, you forgot to crop the
timestamp in the corner.”
Unfortunately for Chloe, the timestamp clearly
showed the photo was taken before I left for
Paris. She was getting desperate without
<
Ethan’s attention.
My phone pinged. “Sarah, what a coincidence! I
heard you like this brand too. We have such
similar taste! Except… I got mine first ;)”
It wasn’t just about the necklace. It was about
Ethan. If I reacted, I’d be playing into her hands.
But this time, I laughed. I replied, “Honey,
expand your horizons. Only dogs eat crap.”
She started typing, then stopped. A few minutes
later, she sent a photo of Ethan shirtless in bed.
Her voice, laced with amusement, echoed
through the voice message. “Sarah, I almost
envy your dedication to your career. Poor
Ethan, no one to take care of him when he gets
drunk but me.”
I didn’t respond. I screen–recorded the
message, including Chloe’s username, and went
to sleep.
12:22
<
794
I drafted another divorce agreement and sent it
to Ethan. I unblocked him. “Just sign it. We don’t need to pretend anymore.”
Ethan replied instantly. “Sarah, where are you? You’re back? Why aren’t you home? I’ll cut Chloe off completely. No more contact. Please, don’t divorce me. I’ll take you to see the
Northern Lights. I’ve been doing research. Not
just Norway, but Iceland, Finland… we can see them all…”
I burst his bubble. “My birthday’s over.”
Ethan went silent. He remembered. Seeing the Northern Lights was my pre–30th birthday goal. I had turned 31. I had already experienced those things, alone. He had experienced them with someone else.
Finally, he replied. “Sarah, I don’t want a divorce.”
