No More Apologies: Burning His Ring in Paris

I ended up throwing up three rounds in the bathroom outside the VIP lounge. All because I had spent the night taking shots for my husband at a high-stakes investor dinner.

Weak and leaning against the cold tile wall, I pulled out my phone and texted him, asking him to grab the stomach medicine from my clutch.

Two minutes later, his reply popped up on Snapchat.

"I just got a hand treatment. Do you not have legs of your own?"

But when I finally dragged myself back to the hallway, I saw Ethan Carter rushing past, carefully carrying Chloe Bennet in his arms.

I stood frozen in the hallway for a long moment. Then, I dialed my lawyer's number.

"Draft the divorce papers."

Ethan didnt come home until the following afternoon.

When he walked through the door, he instinctively reached for the coat rack.

Usually, his freshly pressed loungewear would be hanging there, waiting for him.

Today, it was empty.

He frowned. "You didn't come home last night?"

"I went to my lawyer's office." I pulled a document out of my briefcase. "Sign this."

Ethan didnt even look at it. He flipped straight to the last page and scribbled his signature.

Ten years of marriage, seven years of running a business together. He was so used to me handling every piece of paperwork that he didn't even bother to read what it was.

I took the papers and turned to leave, but he stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

"Don't get the wrong idea. Chloe had acute gastroenteritis last night. I had to rush her to the ER."

He paused, his voice stiffening. "Nothing happened between us."

This was the first time in seven years he had ever bothered to explain himself to me.

Too bad he forgot what he had said to me three years ago when I was the one rushed to the ER with acute gastroenteritis.

He had snapped, "Clara, is your assistant just for ornament? I have an international conference tonight."

Suddenly, his phone buzzed.

Chloes tearful voice echoed through the speaker. "Ethan... am I totally useless? I've only been at the company for a month and I've already taken two sick days... Are you going to fire me?"

"Don't talk nonsense," Ethan said, his voice instantly softening. "Being sick isn't your fault."

He shot a cold glance at me, his tone dropping to sub-zero temperatures. "Some people force their employees to work around the clock just to hit their targets. Thats why people get sick."

"Be good and rest at home. Im coming over to check on you."

He hung up and grabbed his car keys.

As he brushed past me, he glanced at my pale face and the folder in my hand. He said nothing, slamming the door behind him.

I looked down, opened an email on my phone that had been sitting in my inbox for three months.

I tapped reply: "I accept the offer. I can start next week."

While I was reviewing the equity agreement from my new company, a Snapchat notification popped up.

It was a voice note from Chloe, sweet and dripping with fake innocence. "Clara, I'm so sorry. Ethan insisted on coming over to take care of me. I hope I didn't ruin his board meeting this afternoon... Please don't be mad at him..."

I didn't bother playing the second voice note. My eyes locked onto her new profile picture.

I zoomed in. It was a photo of a mans hand gently holding a thermometer against Chloe's forehead.

On that wrist was the limited-edition watch I had gifted Ethan for his birthday last year.

He really did care about her.

I closed the picture, went to my own profile, and changed our wedding photo to a blank white screen.

On the day of the new product launch, as the head of the project, I had to be there. After the presentation, I walked over to the media photo-op area, only to find Ethan already standing dead center, his arm wrapped around Chloe's waist.

The reporters' cameras flashed rapidly. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter look so in love!"

"I heard Mrs. Carter was the lead designer for this new product? Truly a match made in heaven!"

The two of them smiled at each other. Neither of them corrected the press.

It wasn't until Chloe spotted me that her face went white. She ran over to me and bowed deeply. "Clara, I'm so sorry! They misunderstood, and I didn't have time to explain... This project is entirely your hard work..."

The entire room went dead silent.

Ethan strode over, pulling Chloe behind his back to shield her. "Clara, do you have to make a scene and embarrass everyone? Chloe is just an intern. I brought her here to get some exposure."

He lowered his voice, hissing, "This is a public event. Show some restraint."

I smiled.

I stepped forward, gently helped Chloe up, and smiled at the cameras. "Everyone, this is Chloe Bennet. Shes a new intern on our team. She has a lot of potential."

The farce ended in a tense, hypocritical peace.

When the interviews wrapped up, I pulled out my phone to book a flight. Ethan suddenly snatched it out of my hand. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Paris."

"Paris?" He frowned. "We don't have any business in Paris right now. Did you book this on your own?"

I took my phone back. "Personal business."

Ethan's reaction surprised me. This hands-off husband was actually interrogating me.

A flash of panic crossed his eyes as he grabbed my wrist. "What exactly are you trying to do?"

Before I could answer, a scream echoed from backstage.

Ethan let go of me instantly and sprinted toward the noise. I picked up my dropped phone, confirmed the ticket payment went through, and then walked backstage.

The display area was a total mess. Chloe was sitting on the floor, a jagged piece of shattered acrylic panel having sliced a bloody gash across her arm.

"Ethan... my arm hurts so bad... will it scar?" She looked up with tear-filled eyes. "Clara asked me to double-check the displays. I really didn't know these shelves were unstable..."

Ethan carefully cradled her arm, his eyes turning red with fury.

He whipped his head around and glared at me. "Clara Miller, have you had enough?"

"Chloe is just an intern, and you made her move heavy displays? What is wrong with you?"

"I didn't care when you drank with clients to close deals, but now you're resorting to these pathetic, dirty tricks?"

The surrounding staff whispered, throwing judgmental looks my way. I said in a flat voice, "I was at the front stage giving interviews half an hour ago. I never told her to"

"You didn't have to tell her yourself!" Ethan cut me off, his voice shaking with rage. "Who in this company doesn't listen to you? A single hint from you is enough!"

He pointed at Chloes bleeding arm. "Apologize to her. Now! Or I'm calling the cops!"

I smirked. I was about to say, "Go ahead, call them and check the security cameras," but Chloe threw herself into his chest. "Don't call the police, Ethan... I'm sure Clara didn't mean to..."

Ethan took a deep breath. His eyes swept over the corner of the room, and he suddenly grabbed the crystal trophy sitting on the shelfthe Golden Design Award our company had won last year. He slammed it down violently at my feet.

The crystal shattered into a million pieces, a stray shard slicing right through my ankle.

Blood began to seep out.

"Consider this payback!" Ethan's roar echoed through the backstage. "Listen up, everyone! Starting today, Clara Miller is barred from all company affairs! Anyone who takes orders from her will be fired on the spot!"

He scooped Chloe up, shoved past me, and walked away without looking back once.

I stood there, and my tears finally fell, mixing with the blood on the broken crystal trophy.

This trophy was something Ethan and I had pulled countless all-nighters for during the early days of our startup. He had once told me, "Clara, half of this trophy belongs to you."

Now, he had smashed it with his own hands.

I knelt, picked up the largest shard, and squeezed it tightly in my palm. The pain was sharp and clear.

Then, I opened my hand and let it drop back into the wreckage.

Ethan was right. From now on, the company had nothing to do with me.

I was never officially his business partner anyway; I had just managed everything in the capacity of his wife.

But very soon, I wouldn't even be that.

The next day, I went to my office to pack up my personal belongings. Through the cracked door, I heard the project manager trying to reason with Ethan.

"Ethan, you were too impulsive yesterday... Clara has been running the operations for years. If she really steps down, next quarter's project is going to fall apart..."

Ethan sneered. "Fall apart? Our products succeed because of my designs. She just does the busywork."

"Let Chloe take over her tasks. Its just administrative stuff. Anyone can do it."

He paused, adding, "Chloe is different from Clara. Shes pure-hearted. Don't let her go to those sleazy client dinners."

I stood outside the door, and any lingering urge to do a proper handover vanished.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from my new company: "Your visa is approved. We are ready when you are."

I turned and walked away.

I was halfway through packing my bags at home when Ethan unexpectedly walked in, holding a pastry box.

"Chloe said the Mille-feuille from this bakery is amazing. I brought some for you."

I looked at the box, which had clearly been opened. The top pastry was missing a corner.

I took the box and threw it straight into the trash can.

Ethans face darkened. He saw the missing piece and forced down his anger. "...It's not leftovers."

He had completely forgotten that I have a severe nut allergy.

And the Mille-feuille from that bakery was heavily dusted with almond flakes.

Three years ago, when I went into anaphylactic shock after drinking to cover for him, he had stayed outside the ICU all night, swearing he would never let a single nut enter our house again.

I guess vows have an expiration date.

My silence made Ethan uneasy. He paced around the living room before finally speaking. "I was too impulsive yesterday and embarrassed you. But as the founder, I have to be fair."

"I'm not actually banning you from the company... Just give Chloe a private apology, and we can move past this..."

"Excuse me." I dragged my suitcase past him.

Ethans words caught in his throat, a strange, helpless expression crossing his face.

In the bathroom drawer, there was a tube of lipstick I had never used.

A bright red shadeChloe's favorite color.

Right on cue, his phone rang. It was Chloe. "Ethan... I left my lipstick in your bathroom. I need it for our date tonight... Can you bring it to me?"

Ethan walked into the bathroom and saw the open drawer.

His eyes flickered with guilt, but he walked out and said into the phone, "I can't find it. I'll buy you a new one."

"Make sure it's quick... It's rude to be late for a date..."

Ethan patiently wrote down the shade number and brand.

By the time he hung up, my suitcase was locked.

He rubbed his neck awkwardly. "She came over last week to borrow the bathroom and change clothes... It was an accident."

"I understand," I said flatly.

Ethan ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Do you have to be so cold? If it bothers you that much, I won't go tonight."

I smiled slightly. "Do whatever you want."

He stared at me, trying to see if I was just playing hard to get. Realizing I genuinely didn't care, he hesitated before turning to leave.

At the door, he looked back. "Where are you taking that suitcase?"

"Paris."

Ethan seemed to remember something, and his tense posture relaxed. "Let's go next week. I'll clear my schedule and take you on a vacation."

At the very last second, he actually remembered our old promise to visit Paris together.

Too bad it was too late.

While waiting at the airport, I scrolled past Chloe's Instagram postthe one she had made sure I'd see.

In the photo, she was sitting at a vanity, and Ethan's hands were gently fastening a necklace around her neck. In the Live Photo, his voice was incredibly tender: "Don't move, the clasp is a bit small."

The caption read: [Hurt my arm so I can't put on my necklace, but he insisted on helping~ He said he'll take care of me from now on. ??]

At the same time, a text from Ethan popped up: [Something came up next week. Reschedule your flight, I'll go with you next month.]

He had no idea I never booked a ticket for him in the first place.

BBefore boarding, I had my lawyer email him the digital copy of the divorce papers. Then, I turned off my phone.