C2 Chapter 2

Katelyn’s POV

After dropping Derek off at the old mansion, I told him I was going home. He frowned, clearly expecting me to at least step inside, to say something to our father.

“You’re really not coming in?” he asked, brows furrowed. “Dad’s in there, Katelyn. He just lost his wife.”

I didn’t want to argue. I didn’t want to hear him tell me I should stay, that I should mourn properly, that I should care. Because the truth was, I didn’t belong there. And we both knew it.

My father didn’t want to see me. I had no place in that house.

So, I lied.

“Lucas needs me,” I said simply.

Derek studied me for a moment, then finally nodded. “Alright. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

I nodded, then drove off, watching the old mansion fade into the distance as I headed back home.

The house was quiet when I stepped inside. Too quiet.

Then, a voice. Lucas.

“Daddy, why are you always away from me and Mommy? Don’t you love her?”

I stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat. My son’s innocent voice cut through the air like a blade.

I knew better than to hope. I knew better than to expect anything from Ethan. But still, for a split second, I waited—foolishly holding onto a sliver of something I knew wasn’t there. Subconsciously, expected something which my mind had already told me.

Ethan sighed. “I love your mother because she gave birth to you.”

That was it.

Nothing more.

My fingers curled into fists. I should’ve known. No, I did know. But hearing it still hurt.

I always thought our marriage was one big mistake. It had always been like this. Hollow. Empty.

Ethan had never spoken to me gently. Not once. Not during our marriage. Not when I was pregnant with his child. Not even when I gave birth to Lucas.

After Lucas was born, he came home less and less, until one day, he simply stopped coming home at all. Then, he filed for separation.

I should have seen it coming.

We were married, but his heart was never mine. I felt it every day in the way he looked past me, as if I wasn’t really there. His love wasn’t something I lost; it was never mine. It always belonged to Scarlett.

I was just the woman wearing his ring while his heart stayed with her.

Every word he said to me felt distant, just polite enough. But when Scarlett’s name came up, his tone would soften, his eyes would change. He loved her. I was just the person he came home to out of duty, not because he wanted to.

I’ve cried more tears over him than I care to admit. Night after night, I waited, hoping he would see me, hoping something might change. But nothing ever did.

But now, I’m tired. Tired of grieving over someone who was never mine. Tired of begging for love, even in silence. I won’t chase him anymore. I’m done holding on to something that was never real.

I marched towards them. Lucas spotted me then and ran towards me, his little arms wrapping around my legs. “Mommy! You are back.”

I knelt down, smoothing his soft hair and kissing his forehead. “Yes, sweetheart.”

He grinned, then ran off to his room, humming a tune under his breath. I watched him go, my heart swelling and aching at the same time. Lucas was the only thing in my life that felt real, the only part that mattered.

He was my anchor, the reason I kept going. No matter how broken I felt, I would never let him feel the emptiness I had grown up with. He deserved better, and I would make sure he had it.

I straightened, meeting Ethan’s gaze. He looked tired. Or maybe that was just my wishful thinking.

“I heard about your mother,” he said, his voice unreadable. “Are you okay?”

I let out a quiet breath. “I haven’t shed a single tear since I heard about it.”

Ethan said nothing. His eyes lingered on me for a second, unreadable, before he nodded faintly and walked away, heading toward the bathroom.

Not a single word of comfort. Not a touch. Just the bare minimum—like checking off a box.

I stood there, watching his back as he disappeared behind the door, feeling strangely out of place in a house that should have been mine. Every corner of it felt foreign now, cold and detached, just like him.

He had never truly cared, not in the way I had once longed for.

I sat down on the couch, rubbing my temples. My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a vibrating phone. Ethan’s phone.

It lit up on the table beside me. A picture.

I reached for it before I could stop myself.

The image loaded. A woman, smiling, leaning against Ethan’s arm. Holding him intimately.

I knew her well. She was Scarlett.

My fingers turned cold.

I stared at the screen, willing myself to breathe, to think, to move.

My little sister.

The woman who had always been my father’s favorite. The woman my husband had loved for ten years. The woman who had been the third person in my marriage.

A bitter laugh rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. It wasn’t even surprising. But it still broke me, just a little more. I had spent years telling myself I was numb, that nothing about this marriage could hurt me anymore. And yet, every time, Ethan and Scarlett proved me wrong.

Ethan walked back in just then, catching sight of me holding his phone. His lips curled into a smirk. “Rude of you to peek.”

Ethan had break my heart so many times now, that I had left keeping an account.

I kept waiting for something to change, for a different version of him—one that cared, one that saw me—but it never happened. I was always the outsider, fighting for love that wasn’t mine to claim.

I rubbed my chest, trying to ease the dull ache settling there. It hurt more than it should have. His indifference. His coldness. It reminded me that I had been wrong all along.

I set the phone down with steady hands, refusing to show how much it broke me. There was no need for words. I knew exactly what I had to do next.

I slipped the wedding ring off my finger and set it down on the table. “Let’s get a divorce.”

Ethan froze. Then, after a beat, he chuckled—low and sarcastic.

“Divorce?” he said, leaning back with his hands on his waist. “And what are you going to do after that? You have no job. What will you live on? Your pride?”

His words stung, but I stood my ground. I was too overwhelmed by the recent incidents that I just could not courage up to say anything. I just wanted to walk away.

“And just so we’re clear,” he continued, his voice colder now, “you can leave, but you’re not taking my son. He stays with me. You can’t possibly educate or raise him properly on your own. I don’t want my son to lack in anyways.”

The final blow hit harder than I expected. His mockery hit the rock bottom. Before I broke down, I decided to leave the room.

I turned to leave, but just as my hand reached for the door, my phone rang, breaking the tense silence.

It was Derek.

I answered.

“Katelyn, come to the old house. Now.”