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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Second Choice: Wife by contract: Kabanata 41 - Kabanata 50

141 Kabanata

Chapter 41

I don’t leave immediately. That’s the part no one talks about. The space between deciding and actually moving your body. I stand in the bedroom doorway with my heels still on, one strap twisted, my feet aching, the house too quiet for what just happened to us out there. The gala lights are still buzzing behind my eyes. Flashes. Smiles that hurt my cheeks. The way Ethan’s hand had tightened around mine like pressure could glue us together. I kick the heels off. One lands on its side. The other hits the wall and makes a small, stupid sound. It feels loud. Ethan is in the living room. I can hear him moving. Not pacing. Just… existing loudly. Drawers opening. A glass clinking. He doesn’t come in. He’s giving me space. Or bracing himself. Sometimes those look the same. My phone is in my clutch. I don’t want to touch it. I already know what’s in there. The texts. The voice notes. Celeste’s voice living where mine was supposed to be. I don’t need a reminder. It’s all still under my skin.

Chapter 42

The elevator doors close too slowly. I feel Ethan behind me even though he isn’t touching me. His presence lingers like heat after a fire has been put out badly. The mirrored walls show my reflection from too many angles. A woman in a gown. A woman who smiled for cameras. A woman who is about to fall apart quietly if no one interrupts her. My phone vibrates in my hand. I don’t check it. If I do, I might turn around. When the doors finally open, the night air outside feels brutal. Cold. Sharp. Real. It slices through the illusion the gala wrapped around us and reminds me that nothing glamorous survives daylight. Mara’s car pulls up. She takes one look at my face and unlocks the door without a word. I sink into the seat like my bones are tired of holding me up. “Did he say anything?” she asks gently. “Yes,” I say. Then, “No.” Then I shake my head. “Too much.” She nods like she understands exactly what that means. At her apartment, I drop my heels by the door. The sound is lou

Chapter 43

I wake up in the afternoon. Not because I’m lazy. Because my body gave up somewhere between crying and not crying and decided sleep was the only thing left it could do for me. The light in the apartment is wrong. Too clean. Too quiet. It hits the walls like it doesn’t know me yet. I lie there for a while, staring at the ceiling, then turn my head and see my luggage sitting by the door. Still zipped. Still untouched. Like I might leave again any second. Maybe I already have. My phone is on the floor where I dropped it last night. Face down. I don’t want to pick it up. I already know what’s waiting. Eventually, I do. It’s worse than I imagined. Missed calls from Ethan. Too many to count. Messages stacked on top of each other, some long, some just “Please” and “Solene” and “Talk to me.” His name fills the screen until it starts to blur. Then my parents. My chest tightens when I see my mother’s name. Multiple calls. A voice note I haven’t listened to yet. I swallow. Then Ethan’

Chapter 44

By the time I get home, my feet hurt in that dull, quiet way that feels older than my body. Like exhaustion that’s lived in me for years and is only now stretching out. I kick off my shoes by the door and they land wrong, one on its side, one upright. I leave them there. I don’t turn on the lights immediately. I just stand in the hallway, keys still in my hand, breathing like I forgot how earlier and I’m trying to remember now. I think, maybe tomorrow will be softer. I don’t fully believe it, but I think it anyway. My phone vibrates. I almost ignore it. I’m good at that now. At pretending the world isn’t tapping me on the shoulder, asking me to look. But I look. Luca: We need to talk. It’s urgent. My chest tightens in that familiar way. Not panic exactly. More like anticipation that something will disappoint me, and I already know it. I type Is everything okay? then delete it. I type About what? delete that too. I call him. He answers on the second ring, which tells me eve

Chapter 45

The message stares back at me like it’s daring me.Ethan: Really, Luca?That’s all he says. Two words and a name. No context. No curiosity. Just accusation. Ownership disguised as disappointment.My fingers are shaking. I can feel it in my wrists, up my arms, settling behind my eyes. I haven’t cried yet. I think that’s what scares me most.I type.I delete.I type again.This time, I don’t soften it.Me: You don’t get to say his name like that.Me: You don’t get to look at a photo taken without my consent and decide you’re entitled to an explanation.Me: You lost that right the moment you let another woman speak to you like you were still hers.I pause. My chest is pounding now. I can hear my own breathing, loud in the kitchen. The microwave beeps, long forgotten. I don’t turn it off.Me: You made promises to her while you were married to me.Me: Not rumors. Not misunderstandings. Promises.Me: And now you’re angry because I sat across from a man who didn’t need a contract or secrecy

Chapter 46

Mara shows up with grocery bags and attitude.“Okay,” she says, stepping into my apartment and looking around like an appraiser. “Rule number one. You unpack. Rule number two. You don’t spiral. Rule number three.” She holds up her hand. “Give me your phone.”I laugh, weak. “What?”She doesn’t laugh back. “I’m serious.”I look at my phone like it might bite me if I let go. Like it’s a small, glowing portal to everything I’m trying not to feel. The headlines. Ethan. Celeste. Luca. Me, rewritten by people who don’t know how I take my coffee or how I sleep curled on my left side when I’m anxious.“Mara,” I start.She softens. Steps closer. “Solene. You’re safe here. But you need a minute. Just a few days. Let me hold the world for you.”Something in my chest gives. Just a little.I hand it over.She slides it into her bag like it’s nothing. Like it doesn’t contain my entire nervous system.“Good,” she says. “Now. Where do we start?”I look around.Boxes everywhere. Half-open. Half-forgott

Chapter 47

The boxes are gone. I notice it before I even sit up. No cardboard edges catching my toes. No half-torn tape whispering under my feet. No mess waiting to be finished. Everything is done. The couch faces the window now. I can see the street from where I sit, the small ordinary lives moving through it. The books are stacked by feeling, not logic. The mugs sit in a crooked row inside the cabinet, the chipped one right in front because Mara said hiding it would be rude. Like the mug had feelings. My house looks like I’ve been here for years. It should feel like relief. Instead, it feels like standing inside something fragile right before someone asks you to lie about how it was built. Mara left early. Work. A hug that lasted too long. The kind where you pull away already knowing you’ll miss the weight of someone else’s presence before the door even closes. I’m reheating leftovers when my phone buzzes against the counter. Ethan. I let it ring once. Not to punish him. Just to remi

Chapter 48

The silence comes first. Not the good kind. Not the kind that feels earned. The kind that lands after something has already been decided somewhere else. Like a door closing in a room I’m not in. I notice it because my phone stops buzzing. No new mentions. No vibrating panic in my palm. No constant pull to refresh like maybe I can still change something if I catch it fast enough. Just stillness. It makes me uneasy. I’m curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked under me, wearing one of Mara’s old T shirts because my own clothes feel wrong lately. Too tight. Too aware of my body. The house is quiet enough that I can hear the fridge humming and I hate that sound. It makes everything feel temporary. Like nothing here expects to stay. I reach for my phone again. The statements are everywhere now. Ethan’s went out first. Clean. Controlled. Then his father’s followed, sharper but smoother, like it was always meant to be the final word. Headlines update fast. One replaces the n

Chapter 49

The knock feels wrong the second it happens. Not loud enough to be an emergency. Not soft enough to be polite. Just confident. Like whoever is on the other side already decided I’d open the door. My phone is still in my hand. Warm. Ethan’s message sits there, unanswered. Are you seeing this? I am. That’s the problem. I’ve seen too much. The knock comes again and something in me settles. Not calm. More like acceptance. Like when you finally stop pretending you don’t know what’s coming. Of course it’s him. I don’t check the peephole. I don’t need to. My body already knows the shape of him. The timing of him. The way he arrives right after something explodes, ready to manage the aftermath. When I open the door, he’s there. White shirt. Sleeves rolled up. No jacket. The version of Ethan that’s supposed to say I came as myself, not as a strategy. His hair is slightly off, like he’s run his hand through it too many times. His eyes flick over my face quickly, checking damage. “You

Chapter 50

Solene: He doesn’t move at first. Just stands there like I’ve spoken in another language. Like the word didn’t land where it was supposed to. “A divorce?” he repeats, quieter this time. “Yes.” I expect anger. Sharpness. Something loud enough to make this feel real. What I get is worse. He laughs. Once. Breathless. Like his body rejected the sentence. “No,” he says. “You don’t mean that.” I don’t respond. “You’re overwhelmed,” he continues, stepping closer. “Anyone would be. The press, my father, Celeste. This isn’t the time to make decisions.” “I didn’t make it today.” That stops him. He searches my face like there might still be an exit hidden somewhere. Like if he looks hard enough, I’ll flinch. Retract it. “When?” he asks. I think about it. About all the moments that led here. The small betrayals that didn’t look like betrayals at the time. “A while ago,” I say. “I just didn’t have the language yet.” His breathing changes. Shallow now. “You’re pu

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