I Found His Marriage Certificate In His Suit Pocket Chapter 05

I Found His Marriage Certificate In His Suit Pocket Chapter 05

When I woke up. I stumbled out of bed, my mind fixed on one thing only: my grandmother.

I had to get to New Haven. I had to see her one last time.

Even if she was cold. Even if she was gone forever.

But the IV in my hand caught on the bed rail, yanking me back.

I tried to stand, and the needle pulled out of my vein, blood spurting out, hot and red, a sharp pain shooting up my arm.

Ethan heard the commotion and ran into the room, his heart aching for her.

He saw the blood on my hand and rushed to press a clean cloth against the wound, his voice urgent and panicked:

“Nurse! Hurry! She’s bleeding!”

The nurse cleaned the wound and stuck a new IV needle into my other hand, her movements sharp and efficient.

I tried to pull it out, but she grabbed my wrist, holding me down:

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re going to kill yourself!”

“You just had a miscarriage, and you started hemorrhaging right after. You need to stay in this bed and rest, or you’ll lose

your uterus-or your life. Do you

understand me?”

I knew I shouldn’t snap at the nurse, but I couldn’t hold back the scream that tore out of my throat:

‘I don’t care if I die! I need to see my grandmother one last time!”

The nurse shook her head, looking at me like I was crazy, and walked away with the empty blood bag, the door clicking

shut behind her.

Ethan grabbed my hand, stopping me from pulling out the IV again, and pulled me into his arms, holding me tight. He patted my back gently, just like he used to after every fight, his voice soft and soothing, trying to calm me down:

“It’s okay, Sophie. I’ve got you.”

“When you’re better, I’ll take you to see her. I promise.”

I knew he was lying. I knew it in my bones.

By the time I was “better,” my grandmother would already be buried.

I’d never get to see her again. Never get to say goodbye.

I sank my teeth into Ethan’s shoulder, hard, trying to pour all my pain, all my anger, all my grief into the bite, to make

him hurt as much as I did:

“Do you know how she died, Ethan?”

“She heard someone call me a mistress, and she got so angry she went to confront them. And they showed her your

marriage license-yours and Mia’s.”

“She died of a broken heart. She died thinking her favorite granddaughter, the one she raised, was a homewrecker. A

slut.”

I bit down harder, until I tasted the sweet, metallic tang of blood-mine or his, I didn’t care.

Ethan’s brows furrowed, and he let out a low groan of pain, but he didn’t push me away. He just held me tighter, his

body shaking.

He whispered, his voice broken and hoarse:

“I’ll call the police right now. I’ll find the people who did this, and I’ll make them pay.”

I looked up at Ethan and let out a bitter, hopeless laugh that echoed through the empty room.

“They didn’t lie, though.”

“Mia Reed is your legal wife. If that’s true, then what am I? A mistress. That’s exactly what I am.”

“I’m a mistress, and the baby I lost was a bastard. Good riddance, I guess. It’s better it’s gone-so it doesn’t have to be a

burden to you.”

A sharp, agonizing pain flashed across Ethan’s face, his eyes filling with tears.

He shook his head, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs brushing away my tears:

‘No. No, that’s not true. Sophie, you’re not a mistress-you’re my love. My only love.”

Ethan had never lost a debate in his life. He was a professor, a wordsmith, a man who could argue his way out of

anything.

But now, he was speechless.

He wanted to explain. He wanted to tell me I was the one he’d loved for eight years, the one he’d always wanted to

marry, the one he’d never stopped caring about.

But the marriage license in his pocket burned like a brand, searing his skin.

A photo of him and another girl stared back at him every time he opened it.

Divorce is just the beginning. The woman he called “nothing” is about to win.

All his words, all his explanations, were empty. Meaningless.

Ethan grabbed my hand. his grip tight, his eyes locked on mine, and said every word slowly, like he was making a vow:

“Sophie. I’ll divorce Mia tomorrow. And then I’ll marry you. I promise.”