---- Chapter 6 6 | was discharged the next day. Ethan wasn't there. He sent flowers. Impersonal. From a generic hospital gift shop. A brief note: "Get well soon. E." He was already in Napa with Chloe. Her Instagram was full of it. Curated photos of sun-drenched vineyards. Chloe, looking radiant and "healing," a glass of wine in her hand. Ethan, a shadowy figure in the background of a few shots, always attentive, always there for her. One photo showed them at a winery they'd apparently frequented years ago. Chloe's caption: "Revisiting old memories, making new ones. Feeling so much better thanks to my rock. &&" Her rock. She even sent me a direct message. A picture of them clinking champagne glasses, sunset in the background. "Napa is doing wonders for my soul, Ava. Ethan is being so sweet. He says this trip is helping him realize what's truly important. We're revisiting all our old romantic spots. It's like a second chance for us." A deliberate, cruel twist of the knife. | didn't reply. | just blocked her. ---- What was the point? | went back to our apartment. It felt cold, alien. A few days later, Ethan's friends, Mark and David, showed up unannounced. They found me packing some of my father's books into boxes. They looked uncomfortable. "Ava, hey. We, uh, we heard Ethan was in Napa," Mark said. "With Chloe," David added, unnecessarily. "Yes," | said. "She needed healing." They exchanged a look. "Ethan called us last night," Mark said. "He was... pretty drunk." "He was going on and on about Chloe," David chimed in. "About how he messed up with her years ago. How he should never have let her marry that tech guy." | continued packing. His regrets were not my concern. Not anymore. "He was saying how Chloe was the one who got away," Mark mumbled, staring at his shoes. "And how he's going to make it right this time," David finished. They were trying to... what? Warn me? Prepare me? Or just share their drunken friend's ramblings? Mark cleared his throat. "He also said... he said you were a good wife, Ava. Always there for him. Understanding." David nodded vigorously. "Yeah, he said you deserved better. That he knew he'd been a terrible husband." ---- Asmall, bitter laugh escaped me. "So he's finally admitting it?" They looked even more uncomfortable. "Well, he was drunk," Mark offered, as if that excused everything. "But he did say," David leaned forward, earnest, "that you, Ava, you were... you were always so devoted. So caring. He said he knew he didn't appreciate you enough." A faint warmth spread through me. Acknowledgment. Even if it was secondhand, from his drunken friends. But it was quickly extinguished. Because then Mark added, his voice barely a whisper, "But then he said... he said, 'But she's not Chloe. She's just... not the right person for me." The words hung in the air. Not the right person. After three years of marriage. After all my sacrifices. My love. My time. | was simply... not the right person. The books in my hands suddenly felt very heavy. | looked at Mark, then at David. Their faces were a mixture of pity and embarrassment. "Thank you for telling me," | said, my voice surprisingly steady. "It clarifies things." It clarified that my decision was the only one. It clarified that there was nothing left. ---- Absolutely nothing