Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph

A waiter popped in and asked if I was ready to order. I told him to wait for a few more minutes, and he left.

I pulled out my phone, thinking about calling Ethan. My finger hovered over his name, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I kept telling myself, 'Ethan's always on time. If he's late, there's gotta be a good reason. Maybe he's busy setting up the room. He wouldn't just bail on me. Even if something came up, he'd call.' I kept trying to convince myself, but the unease in my gut just kept growing.

After an hour of waiting and worrying, he still hadn't shown up, and I started to freak out.

I finally called him, but he didn't pick up.

'Why isn't he answering? Is he in a meeting? Did something happen?' I thought, getting more and more anxious.

I couldn't sit still anymore.

Just as I was about to head to his office, the door swung open, and there he was.

It was late fall, and the weather was already pretty chilly. He had his suit jacket draped over his arm and was just wearing a thin white shirt.

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" he said as he walked in.

Seeing him safe and sound, I let out a huge sigh of relief, realizing all my worries were for nothing.

"It's okay, I haven't been waiting long."

He must've told the staff he was here because the waiter brought in the food and drinks right after.

He sat down across the long table, put down his suit jacket, and without explaining why he was late, he just said, "Honey, you must be starving. Let's eat first."

He opened a bottle of wine, poured himself a full glass, and downed it in one go, then immediately poured another.

A few candles flickered between us, casting a dim light on his face, making it hard to see clearly. But I could tell something was off with Ethan.

"Why aren't you eating? Don't you like the food?" he suddenly asked.

"No, it's fine," I replied.

"That's good." He downed the second glass.

Glass after glass, he barely touched the food and just kept drinking.

"Drink less; your stomach isn't in good shape," I said.

He gave a faint smile, looking a bit tipsy, and said, "It's fine now, not that weak anymore."

He reached for the wine bottle again, only to find it empty, so he opened a second one.

I couldn't hold back any longer and asked, "What's wrong? Are you in a bad mood? Did something happen at work?"

He didn't say a word, just poured himself another glass, so full it spilled over.

After downing it in one go, he set the glass down, leaned back, and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, showing off his firm chest. "Are you happy with how everything's set up today?" he suddenly asked.

In the dim candlelight, his eyes looked even deeper, and his slightly drunken gaze seemed to hide some emotion I couldn't quite figure out. "It's great," I said.

He nodded, saying, "As long as you're happy. I wanted a good ending."

I was stunned. "What do you mean?"

He sat up straight, placed both hands on the table, and looked at me more seriously than before, saying clearly, "I think we should get a divorce."

It felt like a bomb went off in my head. I was dumbfounded, staring at him like an idiot, my voice barely a whisper.

"Why?"

Ethan bit his lip, staring off into space like he was deep in thought.

After what felt like forever, he finally spoke.

"Do we need a reason?"

His casual words made my nose sting with the urge to cry.

But something felt off. He had been so good to me, his kindness had quickly made me fall into happiness. He even said he owed me a wedding. I couldn't believe he would change so quickly. "Don't joke around; this isn't funny."

I didn't dare look into his eyes because his serious gaze made me panic.

"Emily, I'm serious. Tomorrow, we'll go to the Marriage Bureau to get a divorce."

I could see he was serious. He didn't look like he was joking at all.

I felt like I could hear my heart shattering into pieces.

"But why? We've been through so much and finally started a peaceful life. I don't want it to end."

I knew I was lowering myself, but I didn't mind being humble in front of him.

At that moment, I thought to myself, 'I don't want it to end, it can't end. I want to spend my life with him.'

"Are you upset about what Mary said that day? You don't have to take it to heart."

"It's not that," he interrupted me calmly. "This has nothing to do with anyone else; it's an issue between you and me."

As if afraid I wouldn't understand, Ethan spoke slowly, enunciating each word clearly.

Before coming here, and even after seeing the setup in the room, I had been full of anticipation, thinking he would propose to me because he had said he owed me a wedding. But his words brought such a huge psychological gap that I was utterly devastated.

I frantically grabbed the wine bottle on the table to pour myself a drink, but my hands were shaking so much that I spilled a lot outside the glass.

After downing the glass, the burning sensation in my throat couldn't mask the pain in my heart.

"What problem do we have?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He lit a cigarette, with a cloud of smoke quickly blurring my view, making it even harder to read his expression.

"We're separated by your father and my father."

Hearing his heavy words, I felt my eyes fill with tears.

"But that's not your fault, nor is it mine, right?"

"I can't live with my conscience!" Ethan's voice grew even deeper.

My heart hurt terribly, but I still didn't believe it.

"You said I was the only one and you told me never to leave. It was you who said we would travel next year and that you owed me a wedding."

My questions made him frown. He poured another glass of wine and drank it, the sound of the glass hitting the table was heavy.

"Last year, you were gone for more than half a year, yet you said the children were mine. Emily, do you think that's believable?"

I stared at him in disbelief, almost biting my lip until it bled.

"What are you saying?"

He took a drag of his cigarette, and through the smoke, Ethan's voice came through.

"I said, we are getting a divorce."

I said with a bitter smile, "Ethan, are you serious? Do you even hear yourself?"

He closed his eyes, one hand wearily supporting his forehead, his knuckles rubbing his brow.

"Emily, you know that once I make a decision, I rarely change it. We're both adults; I hope you can be more straightforward. Ask for anything you want, and I'll try to satisfy you."

I grabbed my bag and stood up, looking at him with a heart full of sorrow.

"I want you!"

He held the cigarette in his mouth and didn't look at me.

I glanced around at the ironically romantic setting, gave a self-mocking smile, and turned to leave with my bag.

At the door, I looked back and saw Ethan picking up the wine bottle again, drinking by himself. He didn't even glance at me.

I turned my gaze away and stepped out the door, finding Dennis leaning against the wall.

I lowered my head and quickened my pace, not wanting him to see the tears on my face.

"I'll take you home," he said from behind me.

I sniffled and said, "No need."

I went from walking quickly to jogging, then to running. I didn't want to cry, really, but his resoluteness made me sad, and I couldn't control my tears.

I thought my face must have looked like a mess, and many people stared at me curiously along the way. I even lost a high heel, but I didn't care and ended up running barefoot. As I ran out of the hotel, I bumped into someone.

"Sorry!"

I was so lost that I didn't look up and tried to walk around, but he grabbed me.

"Where are you going? I'll take you."

Hearing the familiar voice, I looked up and saw it was Faris.

He looked closely at my face, his frown deepening.

I shakily searched my bag for my car keys.

"No need, I drove."

As I took a step, he pulled me back.

"You're so emotional right now, and you still want to drive? Do you want your children to be motherless?"

His words were harsh but effective, and I finally relented.

My children were about to lose a complete home; they couldn't lose me too. No matter how hurt I was, I had to be strong.

A cold wind blew, and I shivered, feeling the cold ground under my bare feet.

Faris glanced at my feet, then suddenly picked me up and carried me to his car, placing me in the passenger seat.

He didn't ask where I wanted to go, just started the car and drove slowly.

I was mesmerized by the neon lights passing by the window, my eyes stinging.

Even though I hadn't drunk much, I felt drunk, dazed, and wished everything that happened tonight was just a dream.

But it wasn't, because the pain in my heart was too real, too intense, as if my chest was about to explode.

After driving for a while, I said, "Take me to The Empire Artistry Group."

The car stopped in front of The Empire Artistry Group, and from the car, I could see the statue of Aurora inside.

Aurora was the woman I admired the most. She lived freely and successfully. She might have had love and marriage, but in the end, there was no man by her side.

"A woman doesn't need a man to live." I looked at Aurora's statue and murmured.

"You still have me," Faris suddenly said, grabbing my hand.

I pulled my hand back, avoiding his intense gaze. Remembering that passionate kiss he shared with Dakota at the bar, I said, "What about Dakota? She's the one you should be responsible for. Do all men like to toy with women?" Faris gripped the steering wheel, leaned back in his seat, and looked up.