He Made Every Choice for Twenty Years Then I Chose Divorce Chapter 04

He Made Every Choice for Twenty Years Then I Chose Divorce Chapter 04

The day before I left the country, Ms. Harwood gave me time off to see my family. I hadn’t even stepped inside our old house when I heard laughter—my mom’s loudest.

“Oh, Maya, if you were my daughter, I’d be over the moon.”

My hand paused on the doorknob. I pushed in, and every smiling face turned toward me. I didn’t fit. Ethan was sprawled on the couch, legs crossed. The second he saw me, his smirk vanished. He huffed.

My mom shot me a look, arms folded. “Celia, what’s this? Ethan says you’ve been fighting?”

I didn’t answer. I slipped off my shoes and poured myself water. Mom rolled up her sleeves. Maya jumped in, “Mrs. Brooks, it’s nothing—Celia’s just been busy with work.”

Mom slapped the armrest. “Busy? I’d say she’s grown wings. Walks in with a sour face. Look at Maya—if you had half her sense, your father and I would be set.”

Maya sat beside Mom, blushing, but shot me a cautious glance. She stood up, brought over a plate of sliced fruit, and held it out gingerly. “Celia, have some—I cut mango, your favorite.”

I didn’t take it. I looked her straight in the eye and asked, “Maya, do you have feelings for Ethan?”

The room went dead silent. Maya’s hand jerked, and mango chunks tumbled to the floor. Her face flushed crimson. Her lips moved but no sound came.

Three seconds of silence. Then Ethan shot to his feet, livid. “Celia, are you insane? What kind of question is that? What’s wrong with you?”

My dad stood too, frowning. “Celia, that’s out of line. Maya’s like family to us.” Mom chimed in, “You’re being so ungrateful—Maya’s always been good to you, and you—”

I stood by the table, staring at three familiar faces: my parents, and the man I’d known for twenty-six years. All of them, because of Maya, looking at me with disappointment. I curled my lips and said, deadpan, “Oh, I’m just kidding.”

Ethan froze. Maya stared at me, whispering, “Celia…” Finally Ethan scratched his head, raised both hands in surrender. “Fine. You win. I’ll scrap every decision we made—you call the shots from now on. Happy?”

He stepped over, patted my head like I was a child, and sighed. “Don’t be mad. Done. Whatever you say goes. Tomorrow at lunch, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go see venues, okay?”

No. I already said no.

Early the next morning, I flew out with Ms. Harwood, thousands of miles away. My phone buzzed with Ethan’s late-night texts about wedding prep. I turned it off calmly and went toward my future.