Chapter 5

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Everyone stared at Ethan, waiting.

David and Chloe looked practically giddy with anticipation.

I watched him, fascinated.

I was dying to know how my cool, collected husband would handle this full-frontal assault from his picture-perfect ex.

Ethan didn't move. He leaned back against the sofa, his expression unchanged.

He let her finish her entire performance before he spoke, his voice quiet but slicing through the silence.

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

Samantha froze, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"That was your choice to make. It had nothing to do with me," Ethan continued, his tone polite but incredibly distant. "You were pursuing your future. That's normal. You don't need to apologize."

His words took her emotional monologue and reduced it to a simple "personal decision."

The implication was brutal: You made your bed, and I made mine. We have nothing to do with each other anymore. So what are you even apologizing for?

The color drained from Samantha's face, leaving it a sickly, chalky white.

She clearly never imagined that lowering herself like this would be met with such a detached response.

Chloe couldn't stand it. "Ethan, how can you say that?" she snapped, jumping to her friend's defense. "A girl comes to you and apologizes, and you treat her like that? That's just cruel!"

"Yeah, man, you were the one who chased her back in the day. Why are you acting so high and mighty now?" another guy muttered.

I listened to them, sneering.

See? This was how rumor worked.

They didn't care about the truth. They only cared about their fan-fiction script, "Lovesick Genius Waits a Decade for His Lost Love."

Any deviation from that plot was, by definition, wrong.

For the first time, a flicker of irritation crossed Ethan's face, his brow tightening almost imperceptibly.

He was done. He stood up and grabbed my wrist.

"Let's go," he said.

"Hey, don't go!" David said, scrambling to his feet to block them. "You just got here! We haven't even had a real drink!"

"Ethan!" Samantha cried out, her voice cracking. "Are you still mad at me? I know I was wrong! Just give me another chance, please?"

As she spoke, she reached out to grab his arm.

But in the split second before her fingers could touch his sleeve, Ethan moved.

He spun me around to pull me in front of him, using his body as a shield.

At the same time, his other hand found mine, and he laced his fingers tightly through mine.

Then, in front of everyone, he looked down at me. His voice was more serious than I had ever heard it, each word spoken with deliberate clarity.

"Have you had enough of a show, Mrs. Shaw?"

"M-Mrs. Shaw?"

The words detonated in the silent room.

Everyone was totally floored.

David's mouth hung open, his glass threatening to drop.

Chloe's eyes bulged as she stared from me to Ethan, looking like she had seen a ghost.

Samantha, standing right in front of us, went completely white.

She swayed on her feet, looking like she might collapse.

Even I was a little shocked.

I mean, I wanted to see a show. I wanted to see how Ethan would handle it.

But I never, ever imagined he would just flip the whole table over with a move this explosive.

This wasn't a scene from the show. He just skipped to the series finale.

I looked up, meeting his eyes.

They were intense, swirling with emotions I couldn't quite decipher. But his grip on my hand was rock-steady, a silent anchor.

It was as if he was telling me, "It's okay. I've got you."

Why should I be scared?

I was his wife, anyway.

The shock evaporated, replaced by a surge of pure satisfaction.

It felt good.

Watching the stunned, speechless faces of everyone who had spent the night trying to write me out of the picture felt incredible.

I cleared my throat, met the sea of shocked faces, and gave Ethan a dazzlingly sweet smile.

"I think so," I said, drawing out the words. "Though the ending was a little abrupt. I wasn't quite prepared."

A flicker of a smile touched his eyes.

"Then let's go home and you can prepare."

Without another glance at anyone, he turned and led me away.

"Wait!"

Samantha's trembling voice cut through the air.

We stopped and turned.

She was staring at me, her eyes burning with disbelief and bitter resentment.

"You two... When did you get together?" she asked, the words forced through gritted teeth.

It was the question everyone was dying to ask.

Their stares were even more intense than before as they stared at me.

Ethan started to speak, but I squeezed his hand, signaling him to stop.

Obviously, as his wife, this was my cue to take the stage.

I looked at Samantha and gave her my most innocent smile.

"When?" I tilted my head, pretending to think.

"Gosh, it's been so long. So long, in fact, that I'd almost forgotten you two were ever a thing."

That was savage.

My words were a knife, and I had just twisted it.

Her face was ashen.

Chloe rushed to her side, glaring at us. "Lauren, you've gone too far! You know perfectly well..."

"I know what?" I cut her off, my smile vanishing. "That they broke up years ago?

"Or that a bunch of nosy former classmates think it's okay to try and set up a married man with his ex-girlfriend?"

My voice was quiet, but every word was crystal clear.

"I don't know anything about that. All I know is that Ethan Shaw is my husband.

"We've been legally married for three years."

I held up our intertwined hands.

"So, I would appreciate it if all of you stayed away from my husband. Especially," I added, my eyes landing on Samantha, "certain people who seem to have a hard time not wanting what belongs to others."

And with that, I turned, pulling Ethan with me, and walked out, leaving a room of statues in our wake.

The cold night air hit my face as we stepped out of the building, and I finally realized my heart was hammering against my ribs.

I had been running on pure adrenaline.

Now, the aftershock was hitting me.

That was intense.

Seriously, I was still buzzing from that.