Before Our Divorce I Discovered My Husband Had Loved Me All Along Chapter 04

Before Our Divorce I Discovered My Husband Had Loved Me All Along Chapter 04

I’d always been a waiter. Waiting for the 8,30 discount aisle to be cleared. Waiting for the bus that never came until I finally walked home in the dark. Waiting for adoption—wave after wave of families passing me by until I aged out.

So I was ready to wait again. For Ethan to rekindle with his first love. For the divorce papers to land in my hands.

All my past waits had been numb and dull. This time, I was terrified.

I decided to be brave for once. I went to his office.

All the way, I rehearsed my lines, “Do you still love Avery?”

“Are you planning to leave me?”

But I got stopped at the lobby.

The receptionist gave a polite smile, “I’m sorry, visitors need to book at least a week in advance.”

I didn’t know if Ethan wanted our marriage public, so I didn’t say who I was.

I called him. The ring barely started before I heard his ringtone from the elevator bank.

Ethan walked at the head of a group. He glanced at his phone, frowned slightly—then hesitated.

I hung up.

He didn’t seem to care. He slowed his pace, occasionally turning to say something to the people behind him.

Only when he passed within three feet of me did I see who was hidden behind him.

Avery.

Time hadn’t touched her. She still had the same girl-next-door look as in that photo on his private account eight years ago.

She caught up to walk beside him, her tone bright, “Hey—you never changed your ringtone? It’s still that instrumental I loved.”

Seventeen-year-old Ethan was all hip-hop, reggae, rock, electronic. But Avery loved instrumentals. He changed his entire playlist for her. That was love’s fingerprint on him—and he still carried it.

They disappeared down the hall. The receptionist called after me, “Ma’am, the CEO is booked. You can schedule through the executive office.”

I forced a smile. “Thanks. Not necessary.”

I was so tired my eyes stung. I’d go home and sleep it off.

But the group chat wouldn’t shut up.

[OMG guess who I just saw at the restaurant—Ethan and Avery!]

[No way—are they back together?? My OTP is alive!]

[@Avery, confirm or deny.]

Avery posted a photo. Floor-to-ceiling windows, fancy plates, and a man’s hand. No face, No face, but the tattoo on his toned forearm made him instantly recognizable.

She captioned, [This place is amazing, highly recommend.]

No direct answer—but everyone knew.

I zoomed in. Then zoomed again.

Ethan’s hands were beautiful. Long fingers, clean knuckles. I always caught myself watching them—when he adjusted his glasses, turned a page, signed documents.

Which is why I noticed immediately.

His wedding ring was gone.