Back Off, You Cheating Ex Wife!

Chapter 2

Ethan pushed the divorce agreement in front of Vivian, but Vivian didn't even look down; she just slightly furrowed her brows.

"An agreement? You?" She let out a mocking laugh. "Ethan, you've got it wrong, haven't you? This is just a document someone asked you to pass on to me, right?”

Ethan was stunned for a moment. Then he clenched his jaw tightly, so hard that his teeth ached.

Of course. He was just Vivian Ashford's live-in husband, the lucky guy who stayed at home taking care of her. How could he have such a formal and business-like agreement, as if he were in Vivian's business world, and even require Vivian's signature?

"In fact," Ethan tried to keep his voice calm as he pushed the divorce agreement forward again, "this is indeed an agreement, and it's a very important one for you."

Vivian still didn't look; she just squinted her eyes.

"How important is it?"

"I think you should carefully read each clause for your own sake."

A moment of silence, then an annoyed laugh. "Oh, Ethan, you've really learned to be bad."

A flicker of anger flashed in her eyes: "You know I'm busy. I'm helping Jack move, and yet you bring me an irrelevant agreement, trying to get my full attention!"

Unimportant? Seeking attention? Ethan felt something inside him crack.

"Vivian!" Ethan's voice rose, and he couldn't help but glare at Vivian. "I don't care what you think of me, and I don't care if you want to look at this agreement. Just sign it, and I promise I won't bother you again."

Vivian seemed taken aback by Ethan's reaction, her gaze becoming scrutinizing. "Really?"

"Really."

Her doubts slightly faded. Ethan watched her pick up the document. The next moment, she would discover that this was a divorce document, and he was already prepared to argue with her.

From the kitchen came Jack's exaggerated shout.

"Oh, Vivian, my finger accidentally got pricked by a fork. Where are the iodine and the band-aids in our house?" Jack leaned out, his eyes filled with cunning and disdain for Ethan.

Vivian's face changed drastically. She immediately flipped to the last page of the document, not reading any of the content, quickly signed her name, and slammed the divorce agreement onto Ethan's chest.

"Here, do whatever you need to do," she said coldly, then quickly ran toward Jack. "Jack, I'm coming!"

Ethan watched Vivian walk away. Anger and sorrow churned in his heart. Her patience with him had run out.

 

He walked straight to his bedroom and began packing his things, without looking back once.

 

Half an hour later, Ethan stood staring blankly at a single medium-sized suitcase on the floor.

 

They had been married for five years, yet everything he owned barely filled it. Only now did he realize just how small he had made himself over the past five years, folding inward again and again to accommodate Vivian.

 

Now, he was going to make his life his own again.

 

Before leaving, Ethan sat down on the edge of the bed. He opened I*******m. His thumb hovered over a familiar profile.

 

David Chen. — Médecins Sans Frontières

 

The last post was three weeks old. David crouches beside a makeshift triage tent, grinning at the camera. The caption read: Day 847. Still saving the world one suture at a time.

 

Seven years ago, Ethan and David had made a pact over cheap beer in a med school apartment. They'd both apply to MSF's elite rapid-response program. They'd travel together. They'd build something that mattered—bring real medicine to families being torn apart by war, disaster, and poverty.

 

Then Vivian happened.

 

Two weeks before deployment, Ethan had called David and said the words that still tasted like ash: I'm not coming. I'm getting married.

 

David hadn't argued. He'd just gone quiet for a long time and then said: Don't lose yourself, brother.

 

Ethan typed a message. His thumbs moved slowly, deliberately.

 

"David. It's been a while. I signed the papers today—it's over. I know I don't have the right to ask, but is there still a place for me? Is the door still open?"

 

He hit send.

 

He turned the phone face-down on his knee, his breathing slow and steady. This message made him more nervous than signing the divorce papers—because it was about whether he still had the right to reclaim a future he had thrown away with his own hands.

 

Waiting.

 

Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. One minute.

 

BANG—

 

A massive crash exploded from Jack's room, rattling the wall. Then came Vivian's scream—shrill and frantic, her voice completely distorted.

 

"Jack! Jack!"

 

In five years of marriage, Ethan had never heard Vivian scream like that. Whatever was happening in there had clearly spiraled out of control.