Six months later, I was proven right. Ethan
and Chloe had imploded. He’d figured out she
was only after his money, treating him like an
ATM. Ethan, with his high expectations of
love and devotion, couldn’t tolerate that. He’d
had someone take Chloe’s four–year–old son
and used him as leverage to get the
apartment back. He’d also made her sell the
Mercedes and give him the money.
<
Chloe had lost it, screaming at him in a
coffee shop. “You don’t even need the
money! You’re trying to destroy me! Does
love even matter?! I’m always there for you!”
“It matters! Love matters!” Ethan had
declared, sounding like a hopeless romantic.
He wasn’t. He was greedy. He wanted a woman’s complete and utter devotion, plus the excitement of infidelity and the illusion of freedom. He’d had my unconditional love, but he also wanted the thrill of the chase, the
L
validation of his “one true love“. He’d thought
he could have it all because he knew how
much I loved him.
He’d been wrong. Love runs out.
When I asked for a divorce, he’d panicked. He
wasn’t stupid. He knew I was better for him
than Chloe, that a stable marriage was better
than a fling. He knew I loved him more. That’s
why he’d come crawling back, begging for
forgiveness.
But he hadn’t anticipated that I was done.
As for Chloe… well, I wasn’t surprised he’d
taken everything back. The dowry incident
had shown me he put a price on everyone.
Chloe was just a distraction. Without the
stability of marriage, she was a liability. And
Ethan didn’t care about liabilities. He only
loved himself.
