Chapter 3

The living room went silent.

I placed the signed agreement on the table.

“Let’s take care of this first.”

Ethan froze for a second, his gaze falling on my signature.

I knew what he was thinking.

The old me would have torn the agreement apart and demanded through red-rimmed eyes how he could decide to divorce me so easily.

Without several rounds of fighting and emotional tug-of-war, we never would have reached the signing stage.

But this time, I only looked at him.

“Are you coming at two or not?”

Ethan leaned lazily back in his chair.

“What’s the rush? Didn’t we agree to wait until Chloe’s pregnancy was stable?”

“I can’t wait.”

Last night, after we had finished, I had lain in Julian’s arms and asked, “I’m done treating this like a game. If I leave Ethan for good, would you want something real with me?”

Disbelief flashed across Julian’s face, joy hidden deep in his eyes.

He placed my hand against his burning chest.

“I’ve wanted something real with you from the moment I walked through that door. But are you really going to divorce Mr. Sterling?”

I nodded.

“Yes.”

Now, the atmosphere in the living room had frozen solid.

Ethan still thought I was joking.

“Claire, what’s the rush? Are you still half asleep?”

“You’d better sign before I change my mind.”

Chloe came down the stairs with both hands protectively over her stomach.

“Claire, don’t be angry. I just don’t want the media calling my baby illegitimate the moment it’s born.”

Her eyes turned red, making her look delicate and pitiful.

“The divorce can wait until the pregnancy is stable. Really. I don’t want to force you.”

She sounded as though she were more reluctant to end my marriage than I was.

Ethan glanced at her, and his expression turned cold.

The one thing he could never tolerate was anyone thinking he lacked the courage to face the consequences of his actions.

“You think I’m afraid to sign?”

He picked up a fountain pen.

Mason spoke immediately.

“Ethan, don’t do anything reckless.”

“Shut up.”

Ethan bent over and signed, then threw the pen heavily onto the table.

“Everyone here can bear witness. Once the baby is born, Claire and I will remarry.”

He stood, leaned close to my ear, and spoke with confident intimacy.

“You’re the woman I dragged back from the edge of death.”

“What man out there could possibly compare to me? You don’t want anyone but me anyway.”

“And you’ll raise this child after it’s born. You’re the only woman fit to be Mrs. Sterling.”

I gave a soft laugh.

So this was what he called love.

I didn’t answer.

I picked up the suitcase I had packed long ago and walked out of the villa.

Behind me, Chloe asked softly, “What if she really doesn’t come back?”

Ethan held an unlit cigar between his fingers and fell silent for a moment.

“Claire can’t live without me. She just needs time to cool down.”

His expression relaxed.

“Once Chloe gives birth, Claire will beg me to remarry her. Want to bet?”

His original plan had been for us to keep living together after the divorce.

He believed I would remain in the villa, obediently continue acting as his wife, and wait for him to resolve the issue of the child.

But I truly left.

That was clearly outside his expectations.

Even so, he still believed the outcome would not change.

“Once your baby is born, my wife’s place goes back to Claire,” Ethan told Chloe.

Chloe was far more intelligent than the women Ethan had brought home before.

She never sent me taunting messages.

She never called to show off that Ethan was beside her.

She always seemed innocent and fragile, which made Ethan constantly worry that I would bully her.

I had seen women younger, prettier, and far more brazen than Chloe.

They were always too eager to drive me out.

Only Chloe never fought openly.

She moved into my home with a pregnant belly, calling me “Claire” in an affectionate tone, as though we were the best of friends.

Still, I should have thanked her for making my decision easier.

At one fifty that afternoon, I sat in the conference room of a family-law firm on Park Avenue.

I called Ethan for the ninth time.

He finally answered.

“Where are you?”

“I’m with Chloe at a prenatal appointment.” His voice was careless. “The doctor added a few tests at the last minute. I’ll come over when we’re finished.”

“We agreed on two.”

“The divorce papers aren’t going to grow legs and run away.”

He spoke as though soothing an unreasonable child.

“We’ll deal with it after Chloe’s appointment.”

He hung up.

Wait again.

For years, I had always been waiting for him.

Waiting for meetings to end.

Waiting for him to come home from parties.

Waiting for him to tire of some woman.

Waiting for him to remember he still had a wife.

I had cried before.

I had made scenes.

In the end, one impatient “stop making a fuss” from him was always enough to make me stay.

But today, I no longer needed him to reward me by offering not to divorce me.

The lawyer entered the conference room.

“Mrs. Sterling, would you like to continue waiting for your husband?”

I placed my phone facedown on the table.

“No.”

“Prepare the uncontested divorce filing. If he refuses to cooperate, we’ll proceed with litigation.”

“I’ll send you all the financial documents tonight.”

The lawyer nodded.

“Understood.”

For the first time, I realized that stopping the wait was not nearly as difficult as I had imagined.