Chapter 8
The first thing Emily saw when she opened her eyes again was the blinding glare of fluorescent lights overhead.
She winced, squinting. The sharp scent of antiseptic filled her nose, and the steady beeping of a heart monitor echoed in the sterile room.
“You’re awake?” the doctor asked, stepping in to check her pupils. “You broke three ribs. Good thing you got here in time—another hour and we might’ve lost you.”
Emily stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind replaying the last thing she remembered before the elevator gave out.
Ethan hadn’t even hesitated. He’d told them to save Sophia.
And when the twisted metal frame came crashing down on her, he didn’t even turn around.
She tried to move, only for pain to explode in her chest and shoot through her entire body.
Oddly, though, not a single tear came.
Maybe the pain had gone so deep it had numbed her heart.
Three days later, Ethan showed up to take her home.
He stood at the doorway, crisp suit immaculate as always, gaze briefly lingering on the thick bandages wrapped around her chest.
It took him a long time to speak.
“Sophia needs her legs to dance,” he said finally.
His voice was calm. Casual. Like he was discussing the weather.
“You, on the other hand… you’re a stay–at–home mom. A few broken ribs won’t stop you from doing your job.”
Emily looked up at him.
For the first time, she truly saw this man she’d once loved with everything she had.
He still looked like a god carved from stone–sharp features, poised and proud.
But his eyes?
They had never held space for her.
“If I’d died that day,” she rasped, “would it have mattered to you?”
Ethan’s brow furrowed. He didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached into his inner pocket, pulled out a sleek black credit card, and placed it on her nightstand.
“Don’t ask pointless questions,” he said. “This is your compensation. As long as you stay in line and take care of the kids, you’ll always be Mrs.
Caldwell.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
Last time, she’d held that title until the bitter end.
But what did it get her?
Loneliness. Oblivion. And in the end, she burned alone.
This time, she refused to be the woman standing in the shadows.
This time, she would shine on her own.
She opened her mouth, nearly said it–I don’t want you anymore.
“Ethan, I…”
Then the phone rang.
Ethan answered.
“Ethan!” Sophia’s sugary voice chirped through the receiver. “The kids and I are at the restaurant—we’ve got a surprise for you!”
Chapter 8
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His entire expression softened. “I’ll be right there.”
He hung up, checked his watch, and his tone turned icy once again.
“I have somewhere to be. The driver’s downstairs. He’ll take you home.”
Then he turned and walked away, tall and elegant, not once looking back.
Emily’s nails dug into her palms. But in the end, she said nothing.
‘Let it go,‘ she thought.
He’d find out soon enough.
That the divorce had already gone through.
That she was done being his wife.
That she didn’t want the kids either–not when they looked at her like she was nothing.
She pressed the nurse’s call button, then picked up the bedside phone to dial her household line.
“Mrs. Carson,” she said quietly. “Can you have someone bring my bags to the airport?”
An hour later, she deleted every trace of Ethan from her phone.
She left the black card in the nightstand drawer.
And she boarded a plane without saying
Outside the window, the clouds turned gold and crimson in the setting sun.
Emily leaned back in her seat, eyes fixed on that breathtaking sky.
For the first time in years,
she smiled.
She wasn’t going to spend another second shrinking herself for anyone.
All those years of begging for love, for scraps of affection?
Let them burn in the jet stream.
What waited on the other side…was a future that belonged to her, and her alone.