Chapter 4

Dead silence fell over the line.

Five whole seconds of nothing.

"What... what did you say?"

"It's her old college buddy, Mason's. She wants to do right by him, so she's divorcing me."

Martha's voice jumped an entire octave.

"Pregnant? With someone else's kid?!"

"Yes."

"This... this is..."

She stammered for what felt like forever, completely lost for words.

"So you don't need to stress over whether we're having kids anymore. You're getting a grandkid real soon."

With that, I hung up.

I shoved my phone into my pocket and walked out the door.

Lucas had picked a local sports bar.

By the time he slid into the booth, I had already downed three pints.

"Alright, spill. What happened?"

Lucas grabbed a plate of buffalo wings and tore right in.

"Clara cheated. She's pregnant. Not mine."

Lucas stopped mid-bite, a piece of chicken nearly falling out of his mouth.

"Holy shit."

He dropped the wing, his shock morphing into pure fury.

"That bitch! You worked yourself into the ground for three years to buy a place for the two of you, and she's out there making babies with another dude?"

"Yeah."

"What's the plan?"

"Divorce. She walks away with zero assets."

Lucas blinked, stunned, then burst out laughing.

"Clean break? She agreed to that?"

"She did."

"Holy shit," Lucas cursed again. "Is she brain-dead? Throwing away over a million dollars for some side piece?"

"She said she has to be responsible for him."

"Responsible? For what? If that guy actually loved her, would he let her give up everything she owns? She's lost her damn mind."

Lucas hit the nail on the head.

I didn't add anything.

I just popped open another beer.

"You holding up okay?"

Lucas looked at me, his voice dropping into genuine concern.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

I stared at the golden liquid in my pint glass.

"I'm finally free."

"You mean that?"

"I do."

I took a long pull.

"I broke my back for three years for that house. Now it hit me—what good is four walls and a roof? Without a home, a mansion is just empty space."

"So what are you gonna do now?"

"Take the money, pack my bags, move to another city, and start fresh."

Lucas was quiet for a second, then raised his glass.

"Good. I'm with you, brother. Cheers to that."

We drank until three in the afternoon.

When I got back home, my phone buzzed with an incoming file.

From Clara.

The divorce settlement.

I opened it and skimmed through.

She was a woman of her word; every single asset in her name was itemized with crystal clarity, all transferred to me.

I dropped my digital signature at the bottom.

Clean. Swift.

Sent.

Then I shot Clara a text:

"Signed."

She replied within seconds: "Got it. I'll be over at eight tonight to pick up the rest of my things."

I checked the time.

7:40 PM.

Twenty minutes.

I locked my phone, leaned back against the cab's headrest, and closed my eyes.

Near the entrance to our subdivision, I had the driver pull over.

It was about a ten-minute walk up to my front door.

As I reached the porch, I noticed someone standing under the hallway light.

A guy wearing a charcoal-gray cashmere overcoat.

Hearing my steps, he turned around.

I recognized him immediately.

Mason.

Seeing me, he flashed a polite smile. It was so polished it felt like he had rehearsed it fifty times in the mirror.

"Ethan?"

He called my name with a thinly veiled air of superiority.

"Yeah."

I gave a flat nod and stepped past him to unlock the door.

"I'm Mason," he said softly, trailing behind me.

"I know."

The door swung open, and I walked in.

Mason followed right inside.

"I came here to apologize to you."

"No need."

I kicked off my shoes, walked into the living room, and took a seat.

Mason came over and sat on the opposite couch.

"I know you hate me."

He stared at me, his eyes welling up with sudden red rims.

"I don't hate you."

I leaned back on the cushions, my tone identical to the one I had used with Clara.

"Clara and I... it was really just an accident."

He lowered his head, his voice cracking with emotion.

"She had too much to drink that night, kept calling out your name. I took her to a hotel, and she... she mistook me for you..."

"Is that right?"

I gave an obliging, faint smirk.

"I know you probably won't believe a word I say. But I really came here to apologize from the bottom of my heart."

Mason looked up, tears pooling in his eyes.

"I know I wrecked your marriage. I'm so sorry. But the baby in Clara's belly is innocent."

"I know how hard you worked to buy a home. I can understand the pain you're going through."

He spoke of understanding my pain, yet a smug satisfaction leaked from the corners of his eyes.

I didn't take the bait.

"To be honest..."

Mason bit his lip, acting as though he was wrestling with a tough confession.

"To be honest, what?"

I played along, prompting him.

"I actually knew Clara back in college. She chased after me for two years, but I never said yes."

His voice carried a nostalgic wistfulness.

"She was dirt-poor back then. Just a small-town girl with nothing to her name. I couldn't gamble my future on someone like that."

He said it with total ease.

As if being a shallow gold-digger was something to be proud of.

"Things are different now. She's got her own design firm, properties, a luxury car, a booming career. A successful woman deserves a man who matches her level."

He looked at me, completely dropping any attempt to hide the pity in his gaze.

"Ethan, don't get mad at me for being blunt. You've been with Clara for five years and couldn't even put a roof over her head. Did you really think a marriage like that could last?"

I smiled.

Turns out, Clara hadn't told him.

She hadn't mentioned a single word about walking away empty-handed.