Ethan called from a new number the next week.
I almost didn’t pick up.
When I finally did, there was only breathing for a few seconds.
Then: “Sophia. Can we meet? Just once. For the divorce.”
I should have said no.
Instead, I agreed.
Maybe because endings deserve witnesses.
Maybe because I wanted to see what was left of him.
He booked a private dining room and ordered every dish I used to love.
When I walked in, he stood so quickly his chair nearly tipped over.
He had tried to clean himself up. Hair cut. Shaved. Nice jacket.
It didn’t help.
He still looked haunted.
“Sit,” he said. “Please.”
I set the divorce papers on the table before I sat down.
He stared at them like they might bite him.
Then he looked at me and his voice broke.
“Do we really have to end like this?”
I almost smiled.
Like this?
As if he hadn’t chosen the road himself.
I leaned back and looked at him carefully.
“You know what hurt the most?” I asked. “It wasn’t even the cheating at first. It was the aftermath. The not sleeping. The panic. Opening my eyes and hearing my own heartbeat like something was hunting me. Knowing that while I was breaking apart, you were protecting her.”
He said nothing.
So I kept going.
“You liked that she depended on you. Worshipped you. Needed you. A strong woman beside you was exhausting, wasn’t it? So eventually you reached for someone easier to control.”
His eyes filled.
“I never wanted to control anyone.”
I laughed softly. “You just wanted the world arranged around your comfort.”
He dropped his gaze.
I stood and picked up my bag.
“You don’t want to sign,” I said. “So we’re done here.”
The second I turned, I heard him start crying behind me.
Not quietly.
Not with dignity.
The kind of crying that tears up the whole body.
I paused at the door, wiped the tears I’d forced into my eyes for effect, and kept walking.
Was it manipulative?
Absolutely.
Did it help?
Also yes.
I knew Ethan would keep spiraling.
I just hadn’t expected how far.
A storm hit the city two nights later.
Sheets of rain, violent wind, thunder so loud it rattled the windows.
I was standing by the living room glass when I saw him.
Kneeling outside.
In the storm.
Perfectly still.
Rain soaked through his clothes. He couldn’t even open his eyes properly, but he stayed there, staring up at my building.
Then I saw the bottle in his hand.
My stomach dropped.
Clarithromycin.
Years ago he’d taken it once and temporarily lost his sense of smell from a bad reaction. As a perfumer, I had teased him that the worst possible curse for loving me would be never being able to smell my work again.
Back when he proposed, kneeling with a ring in his hand, he’d smiled and said, “If I ever betray you, let me lose the right to smell your perfume.”
At the time, I thought it was romantic.
Now he lifted the bottle and dry-swallowed a handful.
My expression didn’t change.
I just understood, finally, that I truly did not love him anymore.
If he could no longer smell my perfume, that wasn’t my tragedy.
A car door slammed.
Lila came running through the rain, maternity dress plastered to her body, hair soaked flat against her face.
“Are you insane?” she screamed. “Get up! She doesn’t care about you!”
She pulled at him again and again. He didn’t move.
Then, distantly, through the glass and thunder, I saw his mouth shape words.
My children… only Sophia…
A second later he clutched his stomach and collapsed.
Lila shrieked for an ambulance.
Beside me, Noah appeared, looking over my shoulder.
“You going to the hospital?”
“Yeah,” I said.
He glanced at me. “To see if he dies?”
I gave him a look.
He shrugged. “Worth asking.”
We went after the rain eased.
Ethan was conscious when we arrived. Pale. Weak. Tubes in his arm.
When he saw me, his eyes lit up.
“Sophia,” he whispered. “You still care.”
I took out the divorce agreement and held it up.
“If you don’t sign today, I release everything about your affair publicly and file full litigation. You won’t leave with a cent.”
Lila glared from the side of the bed. “And what about you? You cheated too.”
I smiled and looked at Ethan.
“Would you tell anyone that?”
He stared at me for a long moment.
Then slowly, painfully, he shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I won’t hurt you anymore.”
Lila looked like she’d been slapped.
I waited.
Finally he reached for the pen.
“I’ll leave with nothing,” he murmured. “Just… be happy, Sophia. Every day.”
Lila exploded.
“Are you crazy? If you give her everything, what about us? What about our baby?”
His voice was so tired.
“When Sophia followed me through poverty and helped me build my life, where were you? If you love me that much, then start from nothing with me.”
I took the signed papers and walked out.
Whatever came next for them had nothing to do with me.