Chapter 4

My smile clearly wasn't part of Ethan's script.

I didn't answer him right away. Instead, I turned and kept walking toward the door.

"Ethan," I said, my back to him.

"Do you know when you were the most convincing? In all these five years?"

I could feel his eyes on my back.

I didn't wait for his answer. I turned to face him and continued.

"It wasn't when you were on your knees, clinging to my legs, sobbing and begging me not to leave."

"And it wasn't those late nights when you'd hold me and whisper, 'Serena, you're all I have. Please don't give up on me.'"

"It was every time Axel had just showed up and was chasing his latest girl. And you -- Ethan Westbrook, the character -- could finally step offstage for a breather."

Ethan's brow furrowed deeper, his lips pressing thin as if searching for words.

I went on. "That's when I saw it. In your eyes, in every line of your face -- this look of pure relief at finally dropping the good-husband mask."

"The freedom to do whatever you wanted without guilt. To chase something new and exciting. And this smug little thrill of having fooled everyone -- you couldn't hide it no matter how hard you tried."

His body stiffened. Whether I'd struck a nerve, I couldn't say for certain.

"The way you looked at those women -- it was the look of a hunter. Amused. Predatory. Savoring every second."

I let out a quiet laugh.

"That was the real you."

I pointed to the divorce papers on the table.

"Sign them. While I still have a shred of old sentiment left -- the kind that saw through it all but chose not to say a word."

He stared at me, disbelief written across his face.

I didn't wait for him to speak. I turned and headed for the door.

"Oh. Almost forgot."

"If you insist on claiming you have a mental illness -- that you're a patient with dissociative identity disorder who can't control his own actions..."

I half-turned, catching his suddenly rigid posture in the corner of my eye.

"Then, as your legal wife, during divorce proceedings, I have every right -- and obligation -- to petition the court for a mandatory psychiatric evaluation."

"To determine whether you truly suffer from a legally recognized mental illness, whether you require compulsory treatment, and whether the court should appoint a legal guardian for you."

"After all, this concerns your legal competency. And your future. So, Ethan -- do you want to test that?"

I didn't linger. I turned the handle and walked out.

By the time I reached the front gate of the complex, my phone buzzed with a message from Ethan.

A photo.

His signature on the divorce papers.