Chapter 3
Stella’s POV
The sun was setting as I leaned against the yacht’s railing, watching the horizon with the distant sound of laughter and music behind me. Just as I was beginning to enjoy the solitude, a familiar voice cut through the air.
“Ethan, you should’ve told me Stella would be here. I would’ve helped her get ready!” Lily’s high–pitched voice carried a smugness as she slinked her way over to him, arms wrapping possessively around his neck. “All your friends are here today. A little makeup could’ve done wonders for her.”
I felt the jab but refused to bite. Instead, I walked away, choosing the quietest corner of the yacht. If she thought her petty provocations would get under my skin, she was sorely mistaken. Once, it would have, but now her words felt as empty as the life I shared with Ethan. After about an hour, the music finally died down. I removed the earplugs I had discreetly worn, stepping back into the fray. That’s when I saw it. Lily was straddling Ethan’s waist, laughing as she rocked back and forth, swaying her body over a large balloon. The crowd cheered her on, shouting encouragements as if it were the most amusing thing they’d seen.
The sight was nauseating, but I kept my expression neutral as I walked over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of soda. When Ethan spotted me, he pushed Lily away hurriedly, his face filled with guilt. “Stella, don’t misunderstand. This is just a game. Nothing more.”
I took a casual sip of my drink, the cool fizz masking the disgust rising in my throat. “There’s nothing to misunderstand. As long as you‘ re all having fun.” My voice was calm and detached like I was speaking to a stranger.
The yacht suddenly grew quiet. All eyes were on me, waiting for me to erupt like I had done before. I had ruined their fun once and lost my temper in front of them all, but that was a different Stella. That version of me was long gone.
Ethan shifted uncomfortably, searching for the right words. “Stella… I caught salmon earlier. I’ll steam it for you when we get home.”
“Mm,” I murmured nonchalantly, turning away from him. When we finally returned home, I went straight to my room, my mind already elsewhere. The phone rang just as I began to settle in–my divorce lawyer. He said the first draft of the agreement was ready.
With a quiet resolve, I grabbed my bag and left the house without a word to Ethan, who was busy in the kitchen.
After finalizing the paperwork, I met up with an old friend at a lounge bar. During those with with her, Ethan called several times, but I ignored every one of his attempts. As such, my friend eyed me with concern. “He’s calling again. You sure you don’t want to answer?”
I sighed, leaning back against the bar stool. “It’s fine. He‘ 11 survive.”
Once, I would have rushed to pick up his calls, desperate to fix whatever crack had formed between us. But now, every ring of the phone felt like an irritation, a tether to something I no longer wanted. Irritated by the incessant ringtone, I turned off my phone and spent the night at my friend‘ s place.
By the next morning, I found Ethan waiting in the company parking lot. His face was a mess of exhaustion, dark circles shadowing his eyes. Without a word, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into his car.
“I thought you’d skip work today,” he muttered bitterly.
I shrugged. “My phone died. Couldn’t get a ride.”
I reached for the door handle, ready to leave, but Ethan pulled the door close, stopping me. His patience snapped, and his voice was low and hard. “I’ve tolerated you long enough, Stella. It was just a game, What’s with the drama?”
I remained silent, staring straight ahead. His anger festered into something darker, and the corners of his mouth twisted into a sneer.
“If you‘ re so pig–headed and unreasonable, then let’s get a divorce.”
This was not the first time Ethan had threatened divorce. The last time was because of Lily. I told him to distance himself from her. But in the end, I was the one who begged him to forgive me, kneeling in public, swearing I’d never be jealous or cause trouble again. I had been desperate to keep what little we had back then. But now?
“Okay,” I replied, my voice steady and cold.
Ethan’s head snapped toward me, disbelief flickering in his eyes.
“What did you just say?”
I stepped out of the car, meeting his gaze with a calm he didn’t expect. “Give me a couple of days. There are a few details in the agreement I need to adjust.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “This act of yours is getting old, Stella.”
I didn’t bother to respond. His taunts, his insults—they no longer had the power to wound me.
After completing the final project at work, I handed in my resignation and booked a month–long trip abroad with my friend.
As the plane touched down, my phone buzzed with an incoming call. Ethan.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.
I hesitated, knowing his mood before he even spoke. When I answered, his voice was sharp, laced with frustration. “Stella, why didn’t you bother telling me you were leaving the country? Do you have any idea how long the jewelry partner has been hounding me to sign that contract?”
His tone hit like ice, but I didn’t flinch. “Ethan, contracts are your responsibility. Why are you calling me?”
There was a brief silence, and I could almost picture him fuming on the other end, caught off guard by my directness. When he spoke again, his voice had softened, almost pleading. “They won’t sign without you.
I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped. My mind flashed back to the moment I handed him my latest designs, brimming with excitement. But his response had been vicious, his words still etched in my memory. “Only your pig brain could come up with such tacky garbage.‘
Now, his desperation felt like poetic justice.
“Then find a more sophisticated designer,” I said, my voice cool and detached.
Before he could respond, I ended the call and blocked his number.
I was boarding a plane back home when I bumped into an old flame–Jacob Harper. Years had changed him from the poor boy I once knew into a successful businessman. Seeing him again stirred memories, but they were fleeting, like the wind. We talked as we boarded the plane, and in a small twist of fate, I twisted my ankle on the way out. Jacob was quick to steady me, his grip firm but gentle.
Unfortunately, Ethan was there to witness it all. His face darkened as he stormed over, dragging me away from Jacob’s grasp. “You’ve been with him this whole time, haven’t you?”
Ethan knew who Jacob was in my life. Jacob and I only broke up due to my family’s disapproval of him as he was just no one back then. But now that he had risen to the top, I could sense that Ethan felt threatened.
I pulled my hand away from Ethan’s grip, met his gaze with indifference, and calmly said, “Didn’t you track me? Surely, you know who I was with.”
Ethan shot Jacob a murderous glare before practically shoving me into the passenger seat of his car. Without a word, he drove us to a port and we traveled to an island, the same one where we had shared so many memories. The large electronic screen greeted us with photos from our wedding–our smiles frozen in time.
Today marked our eighth wedding anniversary.
But the moment was shattered when Lily, clad in a flimsy dress, ran up to Ethan, throwing herself into his arms. “Ethan! There’s a snake! I think I got bitten,” she whimpered, lifting her dress to reveal a delicate tattoo of bite marks.
A familiar tattoo. The same one I had seen on Ethan’s thigh.
Watching him fumble, trying to push her away, I couldn’t help but laugh. And as I clapped slowly, the words that left my mouth shattered the last piece of him I once held dear.