His Secretary Takes Charge

Chapter 9

I stood up, ready to leave, when Ethan tapped the table.

"Grace, wait, I have something to show you."

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

I recognized it instantly. It was a list of childhood dreams I'd written in elementary school. Our teacher had asked us to write down what we wanted most when we grew up. While the other kids jotted down a single line, I'd filled an entire page.

Ethan smiled as he pointed at the list. "Don't divorce me yet. Let me help you cross off every single wish on here, okay?"

"See this? You said you wanted to see the lavender fields in Provence. What if we go tomorrow?"

"And here, you wanted to learn freediving, then dive in Guam. I'll go with you. We'll do it together."

"And this one…"

"Enough, Ethan," I cut him off, slicing through his wistful fantasies.

"You know what my biggest dream was back then?"

He shook his head, his eyes searching mine.

"My biggest dream was to marry you," I said softly. "And I did. But it turned out nothing like I imagined. So now I have a new dream, divorcing you and living my life the way I want."

I looked him straight in the eye. "Didn't you say you wanted to help me fulfill all my dreams?"

But this, this was one wish Ethan couldn't grant. He kept asking why I wanted the divorce, reminding me how I'd always forgiven him before, like I was just going through another phase. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that this time, I meant it.

I thought of all the sweet nothings he used to whisper to Chloe and said calmly, "There's no big dramatic reason, Ethan. You're just getting old, and I'm not into old men. I like them young. Strong. Hot. Get it?"

For once, he didn't have a comeback.

Still, he refused to sign the papers.

So, I took Emily with me and filed for divorce at the courthouse.

The process dragged on, and it wasn't until over six months later that I finally received a court notice.

That morning, as I walked up the courthouse steps, I saw Ethan.

His arm was around Chloe, whose pregnant belly was now unmistakably round.

They hadn't wasted any time.

His expression was cold and unreadable. Chloe clung to his arm like a lifeline, holding her belly like it was made of glass. Ethan strode ahead with his usual long-legged pace, leaving her struggling to keep up in heels on the slick tile. She nearly slipped a few times.

Out of instinct, I took a step toward her, only to feel my phone buzz.

A WhatsApp message from Chloe.

"Grace, you lost. I told you, a washed-up hippo like you could never compete with me."

I glanced up. She stood by the courthouse door, smirking as she patted her belly like it was some kind of trophy.

I turned to walk away, but my phone buzzed again.

"You mad? Must be killing you inside. I mean, I'm pregnant, and you don't even have a womb anymore. You'll never be a mom. Tragic, huh? I heard women without wombs age faster. Want me to recommend a good cosmetic surgeon?"

Her words hit like a dagger.

But I swallowed the bitterness and typed back:

"Thanks. I hope you have twins this time. Triplets next. Maybe even quadruplets after that."

Originally, I had planned to pull her aside and warn her, warn her not to waste her youth and sanity on Ethan the way I did. But clearly, she didn't want advice. She wanted war.

So I gave her peace instead.

I walked away, leaving her with her choices, and whatever came next.