He Made Us His Secret, So We Disappeared

"Teresa, thank you for everything you've done for me."

I handed over my resignation letter. Teresa Walsh read it and looked up in surprise.

"Elena, you're resigning?"

"Yes. I think it's time for a change."

"You've been with Caruso & Associates for eight years. Why leave now?"

"It isn't sudden." I smiled. "Ethan's father is barely in his life. I want to take my son somewhere new and start over."

Teresa hesitated.

"I always thought…"

She stopped there. She probably thought Ethan didn't have a father, and I didn't correct her.

When she realized I had made up my mind, she accepted the resignation.

I left the legal department and stopped by the private lounge for coffee.

That was where I saw Damian and Sofia.

Sofia Bellini sat beside him with one hand around his arm, leaning close enough that something she whispered made him smile.

Damian Caruso was the founder of Caruso & Associates, one of the most successful lawyers in New York, and my husband of eight years.

I had joined his law firm shortly before one night changed everything between us. I became pregnant, and Damian married me because of it, without a wedding or public announcement.

To everyone else, I was Elena Hart, one of the firm's lawyers, and Ethan was only my son.

Sofia was different. She had grown up with Damian, and no one questioned why she belonged beside him.

I walked in.

"Damian."

He looked up, and the smile he had worn for Sofia disappeared.

"Elena. Do you need something?"

His tone was no different from the way he addressed any other employee.

"No. I'm just getting coffee."

I had barely turned away when he stopped me.

"Give the Marina Hotel acquisition to Sofia. She'll handle the closing."

I paused.

I had spent months on that deal.

"Sofia needs a complete project on her record," Damian said.

"And the work I already did?"

His expression cooled.

"Elena, I'm informing you. I'm not asking."

It wasn't the first time he had handed Sofia something I had worked for.

I used to fight him over it.

That day, I felt almost nothing.

Soon, none of it would matter to me.

Sofia accepted the file with a smile.

"Thanks, Elena. You've already handled the hard part."

"I hope the rest goes well."

I took my coffee and left.

When I got home, Ethan was working on the model he had built for school. The moment he saw me, he came over and asked quietly,

"Mom, did you ask Dad?"

The next afternoon was his Family Science Challenge at school, and that evening was his seventh birthday.

For days, he had been asking the same question.

Would Dad come this time?

I brushed a hand over his hair.

"I'll ask him again."

Ethan's face brightened.

"Tell him I really want him there."

"I will."

After he went back to his room, I called Damian. No answer, so I sent him a message.

Ethan's school event is tomorrow afternoon. His birthday dinner is tomorrow night too. Can you come?

Hours passed without a reply.

By bedtime, my phone was still silent. Then Sofia's latest Instagram Story appeared.

They were in a private screening room. Sofia leaned against Damian, while only the side of his face showed in the photo.

Several people we knew had already commented.

You two look perfect together.

How are you still not married?

Someone else asked:

Is this finally the year?

Sofia replied with a smiling emoji.

I closed the app.

Damian wasn't too busy to look at his phone. He simply didn't have time to answer me.

He didn't come home that night either.

Before Ethan went to sleep, he asked again.

"Mom, did Dad text back?"

I tucked the blanket around him and shook my head.

"Not yet."

The hope in his eyes dimmed, but he quickly said,

"Maybe he's busy."

At seven, my son had already learned to make excuses for a father who had never truly been there.

I closed his door and sat alone at the dining table.

For eight years, I had kept telling myself to wait a little longer: until Damian stopped resenting what had happened between us, until he acknowledged our marriage, until Ethan could finally call him Dad without looking around first.

Maybe that day was never coming.

I poured myself a glass of wine. By the time it was empty, there was still no message from Damian.

Looking at the glass, I finally understood how pointless all those years of waiting had been.

Why keep holding on to a man who didn't love me?

I opened the folder my attorney had sent that morning.

Divorce Agreement.

My signature was already on the last page.

Damian, this time, I was setting you free.