Todos los capítulos de He Divorced Me On Our Anniversary: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Lena’s POVI don’t answer him right away.Not because I’m thinking of a lie, but because my body just stops as if everything inside me hits pause at the same time. My hand is still on my stomach my fingers spread like I’m guarding something, and suddenly that feels loud. Too loud.Keenan notices of course he does.He did not push though, he just watches me his eyes soft but sharp as if he already knows and he is waiting for me to catch up.“Hey,” he says quietly, “You don’t have to freak out I’m just asking.”I started laughing and it sounded wrong, too high and too thin. “That’s the problem, I don’t think I can not freak out.”He sits up straighter. “Okay. That sounds like a yes.”I swallow my throat feels tight as if I had been crying even though I haven’t yet. “I didn’t plan to tell you like this.”“That makes it a yes,” he says gently.I nod once, then again because it still doesn’t feel real unless I do it twice. “Yeah. I’m pregnant.”The word hangs there between us. Pregnant, not

Ethan’s POVI wake up with my head pounding so hard it feels like a small dwarft is drilling into my skull.For a few seconds I don’t know where I am the room spins, slow and mean, and my mouth tastes like old alcohol and regret. I groan and roll onto my side pressing my face into the pillow like that might stop the noise inside my head.It doesn’t.I open my eyes and the bed beside me is empty.That hits me harder than the headache.For half a second my brain betrays me and I think, she came back that she slept here and that she is in the kitchen making coffee like she always did when I overdid it the night before. The thought is so real my chest tightens before I can stop it.Then I hear a voice.Not Lena’s.A woman humming.I push myself up too fast and the room tilts. I sit there for a moment elbows on my knees, breathing through the nausea. My temples throb and my stomach rolls.I drag myself out of bed and shuffle down the hall, barefoot and shirtless, every step reminding me how

Ethan’s POVMy mother doesn’t knock.She never has. Even when I was a kid, even when I begged her to. She believes knocking gives people time to lie and apparently that belief followed her straight into my office at ten thirty on a Wednesday morning.I’m halfway through an email I have rewritten five times when the door swings open hard enough to make the glass rattle.“Ethan Carter,” she says, sharp and loud like she is calling a dog that pissed on the carpet. “We need to talk.”I look up, already irritated, already exhausted, already in no mood for this.“Mother,” I say. “I’m in the middle of something.”She steps inside anyway, heels clicking, purse tucked under her arm like a weapon. She doesn’t sit. She never sits when she’s angry. She stands there in front of my desk, arms crossed, eyes scanning my face like she’s counting bruises.“You look like shit,” she says flatly.“Nice to see you too.”“Sit,” my mother says.I blink. “Good morning to you too.”“Don’t test me today, Ethan,”

Ryan’s POVI didn’t wake up this morning planning to ruin anyone’s life. That’s the funny part people always think there’s some big dramatic moment where someone decides to become the bad guy, like they wake up and stretch and say, yeah, today I’m going to burn everything down. It’s never like that. It starts with something stupid, like checking your phone too early or seeing a name you didn’t expect, and suddenly your head is in a place it shouldn’t be.I was already awake before my alarm went off, staring at the ceiling, running through the same thoughts I’d been running through for weeks. Lena. Ethan. The house. The way things used to be. The way they should have been if life had any sense of fairness at all.I got up, made coffee I didn’t really want, and opened my laptop out of habit more than anything else. Work emails. A couple of messages I ignored. One from Ethan I didn’t open right away, because I already knew what it would be. More of the same. Him trying to sound normal. Hi

Lena’s POVI stare at the envelope for a long time before I open it.It’s only paper just numbers but my hands still shake a little when I slide my finger under the flap and pull it open because for the first time since I walked out of that house with a suitcase and a broken heart this is mine. My own money not Ethan’s, not his parents’ or anyone else’s safety net.Mine.I sit at the small kitchen table and count it twice even though I already know what it says. It’s not a lot and it’s nothing compared to the life I used to live. No designer anything or big numbers and no fancy bank app notifications.But it feels heavier than any check I have ever held.I laugh a little to myself it sound strange in the quiet room. “Well,” I say out loud even though no one is there. “Look at you.”I fold it back up and tuck it into my bag before I can second guess myself or start thinking about how fast it will disappear or groceries and gas. Today, I want to let it mean something.When I get to the c