Chapter 6

I was hospitalized for a week, and Ethan didn't send a single text.

During my weakest moments post-miscarriage, I would open my phone, only to find a blank screen.

My last text exchange with Ethan was from the night before I caught him. He had written:

"Go to sleep first, Chlo. I'm drowning in work here."

Rachel had to call him over a dozen times before he finally picked up. The background noise of blasting club music and girls laughing clashed violently with the quiet of my hospital room.

"Ethan, have you lost your mind? Chloe has been in the hospital for days! Do you even care?"

"Hospital?" Ethan’s voice sounded heavily intoxicated.

The noise on his end quieted down for three seconds, and then a chorus of drunk laughter erupted.

"Hey CEO Vance, why is your wife in the hospital? Did she get too much filler? Hahaha!" "That's what happens when they get old!"

Rachel’s eyes went red with fury. She almost smashed her phone, screaming the vilest insults she knew. In contrast, I, the actual victim, was incredibly calm.

I took a sip of water, took the phone from Rachel, and spoke in a cold, steady voice. "Ethan, let's get a divorce."

"Stop throwing a tantrum, Chloe. I'll come home and make it up to you once I'm done with this project. We've been married for twelve years. I admitted I was wrong, so drop it. Don't make things difficult for me."

"Divorce."

"I already told Aria it was a one-time mistake because I drank too much. It won't happen again."

"I'm not going to repeat myself a third time."

A long silence followed.

"Fine, Chloe. If you want a divorce, fine. We’ve been married for so long, I highly doubt you'll find anyone better than me. I made one mistake, and you're holding a knife to my throat. Fine. Tomorrow at eight, at the lawyer's office. If you don't show up, you're a coward!"