Even Yvette, who had been full of complaints in her earlier messages, now beamed at him with a radiant smile as if all her grievances had evaporated in his presence.
In stark contrast, my mother’s quiet sobs broke through the joyous atmosphere, a haunting reminder of her grief amidst their laughter.
At that moment, a wave of desolation washed over me. Perhaps I had been wrong from the very beginning.
Six years ago, Yvette confessed her love, claiming it had been love at first sight. She pursued me with relentless determination. At that age, when emotions burned brightly, who could resist someone so young, beautiful, and seemingly devoted?
Yet, standing quietly in her shadow was Declan, her childhood sweetheart.
Their families weren’t just neighbors; they were perfectly aligned in social status, destined for a seamless union.
I had rejected Yvette time and again, but she refused to give up, declaring her love with unwavering conviction. To prove her devotion, she cut ties with Declan and distanced herself from every other man, prioritizing me above all else. For a while, I believed her. For a while, she made me feel secure.
Things took a sharp turn six months ago when Declan returned to the country as a general doctor. Yvette claimed he had been forced to leave because of me, and now, after all these years, she insisted she needed to take special care of him.
The truth, though, painted a different picture. Back then, it was Yvette who made the decision to send him away. All I had done was ask her to draw some boundaries with other men. Yet somehow, I had become the villain in her rewritten story.
I refused to engage in her theatrics. Instead, I went out to buy boxed meals for my mother, who was still waiting at the funeral parlor. On my way back, fate played a cruel joke. There she was, standing on a crowded street, laughing with Declan as they browsed through fireworks together.
A flash of fury surged through me, burning hotter than the flickers of the sparklers they held. Without thinking, I marched toward Yvette.
Before she could even process my presence, I struck her across the face. The sound of the slap echoed through the bustling street, and she stumbled back, clutching her cheek in disbelief.
Her wide eyes met mine, brimming with shock. “What’s wrong with you?” she gasped.
Declan, visibly alarmed, rushed to her side, gripping her hand protectively. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t bother to ask why I wasn’t home for New Year’s Eve, nor did she attempt to explain why she was wandering the streets with Declan late at night.
Her reaction struck like ice, freezing me in place before the shards pierced through, leaving me shattered.
I locked my gaze on her, my voice as cold as my stare. “Let’s get a divorce.”
Yvette’s eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. “What nonsense are you talking about? It’s New Year’s! You want a divorce just because I gave Declan a piece of cake?”
To her, it was incomprehensible. Divorce over something so trivial? A mere slice of cake? She couldn’t see the cracks widening beneath her feet.
She had once invited Declan to stay overnight at our home, and I had swallowed my anger in silence. Perhaps she thought I’d bury my feelings again this time.
Her uneasy gaze flitted to the boxed meals in my hands. With a mocking smile, she asked, “Are you sulking because you didn’t come to my place for New Year’s? What, your parents didn’t feed you? You had to go out and buy food for yourself?”
Her words stung like a slap, dripping with ridicule as if she had forgotten everything. Five hours ago, I had told her about my father’s heart attack.
She hadn’t taken a single word I’d said seriously, as though my feelings were mere whispers in the wind.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself before locking eyes with her. “Say whatever you want. I’ll send you the divorce papers tomorrow.”
As I turned to walk away, a firm grip suddenly wrapped around my arm. Declan’s face was flushed with righteous anger, his presence a shield as he positioned himself protectively in front of Yvette.
“Ethan, don’t you think you’ve gone too far?” he snapped, his voice tight with indignation. “Since the moment I came back six months ago, you’ve been trying to get rid of me. You’ve been picking fights with Yvette and pushing me out!”
His words rushed out in a torrent, his face red with emotion. “I could’ve worked at a prestigious hospital in the city, but for your sake, I settled for a small-town clinic. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“And now, suddenly, you want a divorce. All because she gave me a piece of cake? You’re doing this to push me away, aren’t you?”
His words stung like a slap, and I could see the injustice etched on his face, his eyes filled with grievance.
The street buzzed with people, the laughter and joy of the New Year’s celebration around us, but the glances thrown my way were sharp, filled with disapproval.
Yvette, who had seemed momentarily guilty, now stood tall and unshaken, her confidence bolstered by Declan’s fiery defense.
