Chapter 4

I gave them a cold, blank stare, turned around, and walked away.

The nineteen-year-old Ethan was never coming back, and I had absolutely no reason to have anything to do with these two ever again.

But before I could take two steps, Ethan’s voice cracked behind me.

"El... wait. Don’t go."

Perhaps because that old nickname still held a tiny bit of weight in my heart, I actually stopped to see what else he could possibly say.

Seeing me stop, a look of desperate hope flashed across Ethan’s face.

"El, I’m sorry. I forgot... I forgot everything. I’ll have them plan a proposal right now, okay?"

"El, I was wrong. Please, forgive me."

His words only made me want to laugh. It was pathetic. Even while begging for my forgiveness, his hand was still holding Chloe’s.

Noticing my gaze, he seemed to realize what he was doing and quickly flung Chloe’s hand away.

Ethan tried to run after me, but Chloe grabbed his arm, whispering something to him, making him hesitate and halt his steps.

I didn't care what he did or said anymore. The moment nineteen-year-old Ethan disappeared, my connection to this man was severed forever.

When I got home, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

To be honest, ending a seven-year relationship like this... no matter how strong you try to be, there is always going to be an empty ache in your chest.

After staring at the ceiling for an hour, I remembered that I hadn't signed the divorce papers yet. I got out of bed, flipped to the last page, and signed my name. I would let my lawyer handle the rest tomorrow.

Since Ethan was now a multi-millionaire, and I didn't want a single penny of his assets, getting a quick divorce would be incredibly easy.

Thinking of this, I sat back in my chair and let out a long sigh.

On my desk was a photo of Ethan and me from college. Whenever I used to feel exhausted and ready to give up, I would look at this photo to find my strength.

In the photo, we were wearing cheap, simple clothes, with no fancy jewelry or expensive watches.

But we looked so genuinely happy.

Now, we had all the money in the world to do whatever we wanted, but our love was completely dead.

I had personally designed this entire house exactly the way Ethan had once dreamed of.

A cozy bedroom in warm tones, a minimalist modern living room.

And countless little decorative pieces we had talked about years ago.

But after we bought the house, the number of times Ethan actually came home could be counted on one hand.

I used to tell myself he was just too busy with work and that I needed to be understanding.

Now I realized he had plenty of time—he just chose to spend it with Chloe.

Thinking about how hard I had worked over the last seven years without taking a single day off, a sudden wave of energy washed over me.

"Why am I sitting here crying? I have my own money now. I should go enjoy my life!"

I muttered to myself. On an impulse, I booked a flight to Bora Bora departing in two hours.

I packed my bags packed in less than thirty minutes, locked up, and drove to the airport.

Before leaving, I changed the passcode to our smart lock.

Ethan had plenty of penthouses to stay in anyway; he didn't need this house.

Just as my car pulled out of the driveway, a heavily drunk Ethan stumbled up to the front door.