Chapter 6 - The Unexpected Visitor
It was Friday evening when the doorbell rang.
I was sitting at the kitchen island with a cup of herbal tea, reviewing the draft of the temporary restraining order Julian had sent over for my final signature, when the sharp chime echoed through the quiet house.
I frowned. I wasn't expecting visitors, and delivery drivers usually dropped packages on the porch without ringing twice.
I walked to the front door, peered through the peephole, and felt a cold flash of annoyance.
It wasn't a delivery driver.
It was Ethan.
He looked terrible. His hair was uncombed, his shirt was wrinkled, and the confident, polished demeanor he usually wore like armor was entirely gone. He looked smaller, defeated, and desperate.
I unlocked the deadbolt, pulled the door open about six inches, and kept the security chain securely fastened across the gap.
Ethan stopped short, staring at me through the narrow opening with hollow, red-rimmed eyes.
"Clara," he breathed out, sounding like a man dying of thirst in the desert. "Thank God. Please... please let me in. We need to talk."
"There is nothing to talk about, Ethan," I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion. "The papers are being drafted. You have no business being here."
"I know, I know, I messed up, I made the biggest mistake of my life," he babbled frantically, gripping the edge of the doorframe with white knuckles. "That hotel room is hell, Clara. Everything is frozen—my credit cards are declined, my corporate card is locked, and I can't even buy groceries! Your lawyer froze everything! I can't live like this."
A cold, dark satisfaction curled inside my chest, but I didn't let it show on my face.
"That's funny," I replied evenly. "You seemed to be living just fine while sneaking around behind my back for eight months. Did you think breaking up a marriage came with a severance package, Ethan?"
"It was a mistake! Chloe meant nothing to me!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation as a few neighbors down the street glanced over toward our driveway. "She called me crying an hour ago because your lawyer served her with a civil lawsuit for twelve grand! She’s threatening to ruin my life, Clara! We were a team! Don't throw fourteen years away over this!"
"You didn't throw fourteen years away, Ethan," I said softly, looking him straight in the eye. "You took fourteen years of my life, set them on fire, and expected me to sit in the smoke and say thank you."
Before he could answer, I slammed the door shut in his face, threw the deadbolt, and walked back into the kitchen.
May you like
Outside, I heard him pounding frantically on the wood for a few seconds, followed by a ragged sob, and then the crunch of gravel as his rented sedan backed down the driveway and sped away into the night.
I didn't shed a single tear. I just sat back down at the island, picked up my pen, and signed my name at the bottom of the legal document.
