Chapter 6 - The Encounter
Two years after my recovery, the final divorce decree between Ethan and me was set to be signed. Because of the overwhelming evidence of his emotional abandonment and financial infidelity, the judge had ruled entirely in my favor. I owed him nothing, and he had no right to any future earnings or assets associated with the Miller name.
I had to attend the final court signing in person. Richard offered to come with me, but I refused gently. "I need to do this alone, Richard. I need to close this chapter by myself."
When I walked into the family court conference room, Ethan was already sitting there with his public defender. He looked a decade older than thirty-four. His skin was sallow, his suit was cheap and ill-fitting, and his hands trembled as he shuffled a stack of papers.
When he saw me walk in—healthy, vibrant, wearing a stunning designer emerald blazer with my hair styled in a chic, confident bob—his eyes widened.
"Grace," he breathed, standing up.
"Ethan," I nodded coldly, taking my seat across from him. My lawyer sat beside me, laying out the documents.
"You look... incredible," Ethan said, his voice cracking. "I heard about the foundation. I see your face on billboards now. I... I’m really happy you’re healthy."
"Sign the papers, Ethan," my lawyer said, cutting him off before he could launch into a pathetic plea.
Ethan looked at the documents, then up at me, tears welling in his eyes. "Grace, can we just talk for five minutes? Please? Without the lawyers. Just five minutes."
I looked at my lawyer, who gave me a cautious nod, and then stepped out of the room. Ethan’s lawyer followed, leaving the two of us alone in the sterile room.
"What do you want, Ethan?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, my arms crossed.
"I ruined my life, Grace," he sobbed, burying his face in his hands. "Melissa took everything. I live in a studio apartment next to a train track. I sell used sedans to people with bad credit. My mom calls me every day crying because she can't afford her lifestyle. My dad won't even take my phone calls. I have nothing."
"You have exactly what you earned," I said, my voice devoid of emotion.
"I was stupid! I let my mother get into my head!" Ethan pleaded, reaching across the table. "She kept telling me you were going to die, that I was wasting my youth. I was weak, Grace. But I never stopped loving you. Can't we start over? We don't have to tell my dad right away. Just let me come back to the company. Let me be your assistant. Anything. I just want my wife back. I want my family back."
I looked at this man who had once been my entire world. I remembered the nights I lay in that hospital bed, vomiting into a plastic basin, listening to him whisper to his mistress in the hallway. I remembered the cold, terrifying feeling of being discarded like trash.
"You don't want your wife back, Ethan," I said, my voice perfectly calm. "You want your inheritance back. You want your luxury apartment back. You want your status back. But the woman you left in that hospital bed died. The woman sitting in front of you today doesn't love you, doesn't hate you, and doesn't need you."
I slid the pen across the table to him.
"Sign the papers. Give yourself whatever future you have left, because you have no part in mine."
May you like
With a trembling hand, realizing that there was absolutely no leverage left, no magic words to undo his betrayal, Ethan picked up the pen and signed his name on the dotted line.
I took the papers, stood up, and walked out of the room without looking back. As the heavy wooden doors closed behind me, I felt a physical weight lift from my shoulders. I was free.
