Chapter 4

3

"You had no choice?"

"I swear, Clara! You are the only one in my heart. She and I have absolutely nothing. It’s just a paper marriage. Once things settle down with my parents, I’ll divorce her. Just give me some time, okay?"

I looked at his face, at his pleading eyes.

We had been together for seven years.

"You've been married to her for three years," I said quietly.

His expression froze.

"Three years, Ethan. Not three months, not three days. Three years. During those three years, you had a million chances to tell me the truth. But you didn't."

"Clara..."

"Does she even know I exist?"

He fell silent, reaching out to grasp my hand.

I pulled away.

"Clara, please, just give me one more chance. I swear I'll fix this. I'll ask her for a divorce tomorrow."

"Ethan," I interrupted, "do you love her?"

He was stunned.

"When you posted those pictures on Instagram, when you wrote those captions, what were you thinking? When you went out to dinner, traveled, and celebrated birthdays with her, were you happy? When you called her your wife, how did it feel?"

His lips trembled.

I stood up, grabbed a suitcase from the closet, and walked into the bedroom.

Ethan rushed in to stop me.

"Clara, please don't leave."

"I'm not leaving."

He blinked, a glimmer of hope rising in his eyes.

"Really? Clara, I knew you still..."

"You're the one who is leaving."

The hope on his face instantly shattered.

I pushed past him and began pulling his things out of the closet. He didn't have much here, just some clothes and basic toiletries. I threw his shirts onto the floor, one by one.

He stood in the doorway, his face pale as a ghost.

"Clara, what are you doing?"

"Seven years' worth of stuff. It's quite a lot."

"Are you going to pack it, or should I?"

"Clara!"

He marched over and grabbed my wrist.

"Can you please just calm down? Can we just talk like rational adults?"

I looked down at his hand gripping my wrist.

This was the hand that had held heating pads for me, bought me breakfast, and wiped away my tears.

It was also the hand that had slipped a wedding ring onto another woman's finger.

"Let go," I said.

He didn't.

"Clara, I know you're furious, but you can't just throw away seven years of history. You're just going to throw us away?"

*Seven years of history.*

I looked at him, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

"Ethan, do you have any idea how I spent those seven years?"

His grip loosened slightly.

"Every time my mom asked when we were getting married, I defended you. I told her we were waiting because you weren't ready. Every time my friends asked why you never posted about me, I told them you just hated social media. Every time I saw other couples getting married, celebrating anniversaries, or posting pictures, I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself you just liked to keep things private, and that your love for me was enough."

Tears spilled over again.

"I spent seven years making excuses for you. And what were you doing?"

He stayed silent.

"You married someone else. You posted hundreds of times about her while blocking me. You called her your wife. What about me? What was I to you?"

"Clara, I really don't love her..."

"Whether you love her or not is none of my business!"

I snapped, shaking off his hand.

"You lied to me for seven years. That is the only fact that matters."

I pointed at the pile on the floor.

"Pack your stuff. Get your things out of here before tonight."