World Cup Final Eve, I Blocked My Husband and His Childhood Sweetheart Chapter 01

World Cup Final Eve, I Blocked My Husband and His Childhood Sweetheart Chapter 01

On the night of the World Cup final, Ethan Harrington had promised to watch the game with me.

I had prepared late-night snacks and waited for him until the early hours of the morning.

Instead, he sent me a photo.

He was in Mexico, smiling at the camera with his childhood friend, Clara Winslow, both of them flashing victory signs.

The caption read:

[Watching the game live was incredible. I’ll bring you a gift when I get back.]

I quietly deleted his number, blocked him, and sent a message to our family group chat informing everyone that I was moving out.

His mother replied almost instantly.

[Ethan is just having fun. Don’t make such a big deal out of it.]

I didn’t respond.

I simply registered a new phone number.

The next day, Ethan called.

His voice was anxious and desperate.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I changed my flight and came back overnight…”

I cut him off.

“I’m in Miami. I passed my interview. I’m starting my new job next Monday.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

Then Ethan asked hoarsely, “What about us?”

I looked at the unopened box of jerseys sitting by the window and let out a quiet laugh.

“Keep the divorce papers ready. I’m taking the old jerseys with me. We’ll each go our separate ways.”

Outside the window, fireworks exploded across the sky.

Ethan’s sobs were cut off by the static of the call.

So he remembered after all.

Three years ago, on the night he proposed, I had jokingly written up a prenuptial agreement.

If there was no love left, let each other go.

***

“Vivian Rhodes, are you done with this yet? I’ve been waiting outside your office for three hours.”

Ethan’s voice carried exhaustion and irritation.

The moment I walked out of the Miami branch office after scanning my employee badge, I saw him.

He was leaning against the door of his Maybach.

His eyes were bloodshot, and a half-finished cigarette rested between his fingers.

I stopped and looked coldly at the man I had loved for seven years.

“Mr. Harrington, there is nothing for us to discuss except the divorce papers.”

I walked past him toward the subway station.

He grabbed my wrist.

His grip was painfully tight.

“Can you stop being so dramatic? I just went to watch a game without you. I even chartered a private flight back overnight. What more do you want from me?”

Ethan lowered his voice, but his tone still carried the arrogance of someone offering a favor rather than admitting a mistake.

I forcefully pulled my hand away.

“Was it really just that you went without me? Or was it that you went with someone else?”

The moment I finished speaking, the passenger door of his car opened.

Clara stepped out.

She was wearing the Argentina blue and white striped jersey, paired with white sneakers.

In her hands were two iced Americanos.

She walked over to Ethan with a bright smile.

“Vivian, don’t be angry with Ethan. I was the one who insisted he come with me.”

She smiled innocently.

“Our group of friends has always watched games together. Without you there constantly keeping an eye on him, Ethan could finally relax a little.”

She handed one of the coffees to Ethan naturally.

“Besides, Vivian, you’ve always been so delicate. Mexico was dusty and windy. You probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it anyway.”

Clara blinked, saying “friends” over and over as if that made everything innocent.

My eyes fell on the jersey she was wearing.

The limited-edition jersey that should have been mine.

Ethan had spent six months searching for it.

He had told me he wanted us to wear matching jerseys on the night of the final.

But now it was on Clara.

The size was obviously too big for her, hanging loosely over her shoulders.

“Miss Winslow,” I said calmly, looking at her, “so this is what friendship means to you? Wearing someone else’s matching couple jersey and drinking someone else’s husband’s coffee?”

Clara’s expression stiffened.

She bit her lip, looking hurt.

“Vivian, why are you being so cruel? Ethan only gave me this because he was worried I’d get cold. We grew up together. Do you really need to make an issue out of everything?”

Ethan immediately stepped in front of Clara.

“Vivian, don’t go too far. Clara is just straightforward and carefree. She’s not the kind of person you’re imagining her to be. Do you really have to assume everyone is as narrow-minded as you?”