---- Chapter 12 12 Did Ava know? Did she know it was his call that sealed their baby's fate? Of course, she knew. How could she not? The hospital would have told her. Or she would have pieced it together. The thought of her knowing, of her living with that knowledge... The pain was unbearable. He slammed his fist onto the desk. Again. Again. Pain shot up his arm, but it was nothing compared to the agony in his soul. His knuckles were bloody. He stared at his trembling hand. Then he saw the other items on his desk. The printout. "Breaking Point Ledger." And the small, worn notebook next to it. He picked up the printout, his heart pounding. He remembered seeing the file on her laptop. Dismissing it as melodrama. Now, he read. Every neglect. Every prioritization of Chloe. Every cruel word. Every selfish act. Quantified. Dated. Points deducted. ---- "Flew to LA to console Chloe on my birthday... -5 points." "Left me stranded on the LIE... -10 points." "Lost his wedding ring helping Chloe... -10 points." "Abandoned client dinner for Chloe's fire... -5 points." "Rushed into burning building for Chloe... -15 points." "Anniversary dinner was a setup for Chloe... -15 points." "Restaurant accident. Saved Chloe, ignored me... -15 points." "Returned from Napa still obsessed with Chloe... -5 points." The list went on. A litany of his failures. His indifference. His cruelty. Each entry was a nail in the coffin of their marriage. A marriage he hadn't even realized was dying. Then, the final entry on the printout. From the notebook. "He chose Chloe over me and our baby. Our baby is gone because of him. -50 points. Total: 100. It's over." The ink was smudged, as if by tears. The pen had pressed so hard it had almost torn the paper. One hundred points. It's over. He picked up the signed divorce papers that lay beneath the ledger. Ava Miller. Her signature, clear and firm. He clutched them, his knuckles white. If only. If only he could go back. If only he'd seen. If only he'd listened. The door to the office creaked open. ---- Chloe. She must have used her old key. He'd never asked for it back. She glided in, wearing a silk robe he recognized. His. "Ethan, darling, | was worried. You didn't come back." She didn't see the papers in his hand. Or the devastation on his face. She only saw him. Her possession.