On their third wedding anniversary, Ethan Carter had everything set—a candlelight dinner, a table for two. He waited all night.
But his wife, Fiona Lawrence, was out holding hands with her ex, Owen Grant, wandering around Ikea like it was a date. The pics were all over the trending feed.
The same wife who always acted distant with him, now letting her ex wrap an arm around her waist, even smiling that soft kind of smile Ethan had never seen on her face.
When he called to confront her, Fiona’s response hit colder than ice: "I haven’t seen Owen in three years. What's wrong with spending some time with an old friend?"
Click. She hung up.
Ethan slumped back in his chair, feeling the weight of three years crash down.
They’d been married in secret for three years, and somewhere along the way, he actually fell for her.
Sure, she was constantly FaceTiming her so-called "first love," even flew overseas one New Year’s to meet him. But Ethan figured that even if love was gone, there could at least be respect—basic loyalty.
Now he realized how stupid he’d been.
Fiona saw him as a useless freeloader, nowhere close to the golden boy in her heart.
Time to end this.
…
It was past midnight when Fiona walked through the door. Ethan was halfway down the stairs with a suitcase.
He’d texted her hours ago about the divorce. Seeing him now, her face darkened with annoyance.
“What now? Playing drama queen in the middle of the night?” she snapped, her tone as icy as ever.
Ethan looked up when he heard her voice.
The warm glow of the lights brushed against Fiona’s face, outlining her delicate features. And even now, even after everything, Ethan's chest ached at the sight of her.
Stop being pathetic, he told himself.
He walked over, set down the suitcase, and handed her a thick envelope from his bag.
“It’s the divorce papers. I already signed. Let’s go to the registry tomorrow.”
Her brows pulled tighter.
She didn’t believe he’d have the guts. A guy like him, who’d gotten comfortable living large at her expense? No way he'd actually walk away.
“Ethan, this little tantrum is getting old.”
Not even a glance at the papers. Just pure impatience in her voice as she stepped past him, ready to head upstairs.
When she moved, Ethan reached out and grabbed her wrist.
“Fiona, I’m leaving with nothing.”
She froze and whipped around, disbelief in her eyes.
Then Ethan gave a small crooked smile, calm but laced with irony.
“What’s wrong? Worried you’ll miss me?”Fiona had never seen this side of him before. Ethan felt like a totally different person tonight. But before she could really make sense of it, his simple "can't let go" stabbed deep.
She grabbed the pen and flipped straight to the last page. Sure enough, there it was—exactly what he said.
Her hand paused, a flicker of irritation rising for no clear reason. Still, she signed her name without another word.
Then, with a snap, she tossed the divorce papers right into Ethan’s lap, lips curling in a mocking smile.
"So, this is the game you wanna play? Fine, I'm in."
Ethan replied coolly, "Ten a.m. tomorrow. Meet me at the civil affairs office."
Without waiting for a response, he picked up his suitcase and walked out.
He ended up sitting alone on the bench near the fountain in their complex, suitcase by his side. He used to love sitting there—sometimes waiting for Fiona, sometimes just people-watching.
Looking back now, he realized he'd been living too small, always putting her first and losing himself in the process…
Ten years ago, that car accident nearly killed him. Fiona had saved his life that day, risking her own.
So when both of their families suggested marriage, he agreed without hesitation. And after that? He gave everything to support her business.
But all those things? Clearly meant nothing to her.
The diamond ring still on his finger caught a bit of light in the dark. Ethan pulled it off slowly and slipped it into his pocket.
Taking one last look at the two-story house he used to call home, he stood up and walked toward the exit.
In the distance, a silver sports car was parked by the side of the road, and next to it leaned a woman with a killer figure.
Ethan let out a long breath, a small smile touching his lips as he headed her way.
But when he got close, he nearly laughed out loud.
The street was empty, and she was all bundled up—mask, sunglasses, baseball cap—looking like she was undercover for something shady. Anyone passing by might’ve thought she was up to no good at this hour.
Catching the amused look in Ethan’s eyes, the woman turned her head away awkwardly.
"Occupational hazard... you know how my fans are."
Ethan nodded.
This was Chloe.
Top-tier looks, respected skills, the undisputed queen of the industry right now—and the much-pampered princess of the Bennett family.
She was also his best friend.
Chloe’s eyes reddened a little as she stared at Ethan’s face, slightly red from the cold.
The glowing, confident man she once knew—how had he ended up like this?
Ethan noticed her expression and said softly, "I’m okay. Really."
Chloe opened her mouth, but no words came out.
So she just reached over, placed a hand gently on his thin shoulder, and gave him the signature bright smile that was uniquely her.
"Welcome back, Ethan."
