That little life we had waited over five years for—she ended it as if it were nothing.
The last flicker of emotion I held for her vanished with her fading silhouette.
I waited at home for Claire Miller for two days, but instead, what came was her social media post.
The caption read: “I hope you’ll always be healthy and full of sunshine.”
The background was a honeymoon island resort.
Claire stood in the center of the photo, smiling brightly as Ryan Carter, the man who had supposedly disappeared, held her by the waist.
I couldn’t help but comment:
“Ms. Miller, please come back and sign the divorce papers, so you don’t delay your honeymoon with your new husband.”
Three seconds later, Claire’s furious voice exploded over the phone:
“Ethan Brooks, do you know that when I found Ryan at the Carter family’s old house, he almost jumped off the roof?”
“I finally persuaded him to go out for a little trip, just to stop him from taking his own life. And now he saw your comment, and his emotions are spiraling again.”
“You’re cruel, Ethan. If Ryan does something reckless because of your slander, I’ll never forgive you.”
I let out a bitter laugh.
She hadn’t even given me a chance to speak before condemning me as guilty.
On our wedding anniversary, after disappearing for a week, Claire finally showed up.
“Ethan, this watch was specially handcrafted by an artisan in the United States. It’s a limited edition,” she said, presenting an elegant luxury gift box with eager anticipation.
The style was unmistakably one Ryan loved—he had begged her for similar watches countless times before.
I didn’t reach for it. Claire’s face darkened with displeasure.
“I know you’re upset that I neglected you. Tonight, I’ll make it up to you. Don’t stay angry, alright?”
I narrowed my eyes at her expression and shook my head.
“Claire, let’s let each other go.”
“If you refuse to divorce, that’s fine. After two years of separation, I’ll take it to court.”
Her face finally twisted in frustration.
“I’m the head of the Miller Group, and I’ve lowered myself this much to apologize to you. That should be more than enough. If you keep this up, you’ll be the one regretting it.”
Suddenly, Ryan’s special ringtone blared.
I couldn’t help but laugh coldly.
“Go on, answer it. Your little husband must be threatening to jump or cut his wrists again without your kisses and cuddles.”
Claire’s face turned stormy.
“Ethan, stop being so bitter. If you want a divorce, fine—I’ll give it to you! Just don’t come crawling back begging for reconciliation.”
She shot me a furious glare, then slammed her name onto the divorce agreement.
With the divorce certificate in hand, I resigned from the company. When I left, quite a few veteran employees expressed their indignation on my behalf.
The next day, Claire’s secretary called—she had once again missed a project meeting.
For half a year, she had skipped crucial meetings, angering both domestic and international clients. With competitors rising, the Miller Group had lost a great deal of business.
After wrestling with myself for a long time, I finally dialed her number.
The call connected, but it wasn’t Claire—it was Ryan’s mocking voice.
“Ethan, don’t tell me you regret it and can’t bear the thought of divorce. Too bad—my sister and I are busy in the bedroom. We don’t have time for you.”
The call ended with a rough click.
Later, the housekeeper told me that ever since I moved out, Ryan had openly taken over our master bedroom. She had made one or two comments, and he promptly fired her.
This client was one I had spent three months persuading to come from New York City. If Claire continued this way, not only would my colleagues’ efforts be wasted, but the Miller Group’s revenue for the rest of the year would take a devastating hit.
