Ethan laughed, trying to dismiss the gravity.
“Oh, mom, what’s all this for? She already signed.”
I looked at him. Calm, lucid.
“I signed,” I confirmed. “And you thought that was the end?”
He rolled his eyes, irritated.
“Sophia, don’t come here and make a scene.”
I didn’t even raise my voice.
“You were the one who made a scene. In the ICU,” I said.
The table fell silent. An uncle coughed uncomfortably. A cousin looked at her phone. The food lost its flavor. Ethan flashed a crooked smile.
“I just told the truth,” he said. “I didn’t want a life tied down. I have that right.”
And there, in front of everyone, he did the most stupid thing of all. He confessed with pride. Helen turned pale.
“You said that to your wife?” she asked in a low, dangerously quiet voice.
Ethan shrugged.
“So what? I’m a man. I have needs.”
I felt like laughing, not at the sentence, but at the certainty that he was digging his own grave with a spoon of arrogance. Jessica opened the folder and placed a sheet of paper next to his plate.
“And you also have responsibilities,” she said coldly. “These transfers were made from her company, and you’re the one who modified the health insurance.”
Ethan glanced at it and tried to react as he always did by attacking.
“This is harassment. She’s gone crazy.”
I just stared at him.
“I was crazy when I was supporting you and thought it was love,” I said. “Now I’m just awake.”
He gripped his fork tightly.
“You’re going to ruin my life,” he growled.
I smiled a small, straight smile.
“You already ruined it yourself,” I replied.
Helen shot up from her chair, almost knocking over her glass.
“Enough.”
Her voice came out with a weight that no one there ignored.
“You have brought shame on this family.”
Ethan was speechless for a second.
“Mom,” he started.
“Don’t.”
She pointed at him.
“You will not touch another scent of her money. You will sign what is fair and you will pay what you owe.”
He looked around searching for allies. He found none. Because for the older generation, there’s something worse than being poor, having no honor. And in that moment, he had none.
I didn’t need to shout. I just saw in his face how he finally understood that I had taken from him, the one thing he thought he would never lose, his own mother’s approval.
I pushed my chair back slowly and said before I left,
“You wanted a perfect wife.”
I paused.
“Then learn what a real woman does when she’s thrown away.”
