Stay Away Ethan, Not Yours Anymore.

I woke up to the soft creak of the door.

Not the front one—this one came from the study. I sat up, heart thudding. Ethan had returned late last night, but I hadn’t heard him come to bed. I tiptoed across the hallway and peered in.

There he was. Standing close to Anna, her laugh low and warm like a song only he could hear.

She held one of the ties I had ironed yesterday, sliding it gently around his neck. He didn’t pull away. He leaned in.

They didn’t see me.

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just stood there, like a ghost in my own home, while my husband let another woman wrap his tie like it was hers to fix.

It had been folded neatly on my side of the closet. I had planned to wear it today since the foreign investors in Ethan's company were coming and I needed to create a great impression. It was the last thing I bought before Ethan stopped giving me "personal" expenses.

I walked into the kitchen where Anna stood by the sink, sipping coffee from the mug with the rose print. My mug.

And there she was, laughing, swirling a spoon in her coffee, radiant in it. The fabric clung to her perfectly, clinched at the waist, just as I had imagined it on myself.

The one I had hidden in the back of the closet. The one I bought with the last of my flower money—the money I saved over three years without touching a cent from Ethan. It was my dress. My secret splurge. I had never worn it, not even once.

My breath caught in my throat. I stepped forward. “Anna,” I said, voice tighter than I intended, “where did you get that dress?”

She turned, smiling like she hadn’t heard the tension. “Oh, this?” She looked down at herself with a little twirl. “It was just hanging there. I thought it was new and… unworn. Ethan said I could take it.”

My heart dropped. “He gave it to you?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “He said it didn’t look like something you’d wear anyway.”

The corners of her lips lifted. Not in apology. In amusement.

“Oh,” she added, gesturing to the table, “Ethan said to make sure you prepared something nice for tonight. He’s hosting the investors here. We want the place to look perfect. You understand.”

We.

I nodded.

I didn’t respond. I turned and walked away, locking myself in the laundry room.

Inside, I pressed my palms against the washer’s cold surface, steadying my breath.

That dress was mine.

I’d watered those damn marigolds in the sun, clipped roses with blistered hands, braided tiny bouquets with twine and ribbon, and sold them at the corner market in the summer heat. Three years of saving. For one moment. One thing that was just for me.

And now… now she wore it like a trophy.

____

You know you weren’t supposed to do that, right?” I stormed into the study, the rage choking in my throat. Ethan looked up, startled.

He was adjusting his collar, fingers brushing where Anna’s hands had just been.

“What are you talking about?” he said, voice calm, too calm.

“The dress,” I snapped. “The crimson one I kept in the back of the closet. You told her she could wear it?”

His brows knit together in mock confusion. “It was just a dress, Avery.”

“No. It was mine. I bought it with my own money. You knew that.”

“Your money?” He scoffed, stepping away like the conversation was beneath him. “Don’t start this again.”

I clenched my fists. “It was the last thing I bought before you cut off my allowance, Ethan. You think I didn’t notice when you started ‘reallocating’ funds? When you said I didn’t need extras? That everything should go toward the household?”

“You don’t work, Avery,” he said flatly. “Everything in this house is bought with my money. You act like I owe you luxuries when you contribute nothing.”

Nothing.

The word hit me like a slap.

I had raised his daughter. Cooked his meals. Smiled in front of his family. Nursed his sick mother. I had spent seven years holding this family together, and now I was ‘nothing.’

He adjusted his watch, already done with the conversation. “Don’t make a scene,” he muttered. “We have the investor event today. Just stay upstairs if you’re upset.”

Investor event.

Right. The one I had helped prepare for all week. The guest list, the table settings, the menus. He had handed it all to Anna last night without a word, acting like it had always been her show to run.

That evening, the house buzzed with unfamiliar voices. Suits. Champagne. Laughter echoing through the hall.

I stayed back, like he asked. Watched from the staircase as Anna floated through the crowd, graceful and smiling.

That night, I cooked the dishes I knew they loved. Set the table with the china I was only allowed to use on special occasions. Dressed in a plain blouse, the closest thing I could find to decent after the one I had prepared was destroyed.

Ethan didn’t notice.

He came home with a dozen guests trailing behind him, Anna clinging to his side like the hostess of this house. Everyone greeted her warmly, laughed at her jokes, complimented her earrings.

No one saw me.

I poured the wine. Served the food. Smiled like a waitress trying to earn tips.

At the end of the night, one of the guests, a kind-eyed older man, turned to me and said, “You must be the maid. You’re quite good at this.”

Before I could respond, Anna chuckled and leaned in. “Oh, she’s more than that. Avery takes care of everything here. She’s like… family.”

That word. Family. As if it was supposed to comfort me. As if it didn’t burn.

And then I heard it.

From the far end of the room, Ethan raised his glass and said, “I want to thank everyone here for believing in our vision. And I’d like to take a moment to recognize someone very special.”

He turned, extending a hand.

My heart raced in excitement. This is finally my moment, I muttered to myself as I took a step forward, waiting for my name to be called. I wiped my hand over my apron excitedly, stretching my neck to have a closer look at Ethan who didn't smile at my direction.

“To the woman who’s helped me through every challenge, who’s stood by me during the darkest times. My partner in every way—Anna.”

Partner.

Anna stepped forward, cheeks flushed with pride. There was a pause. A smile. Then he added, “And as of this week, my fiancée.”

I didn’t hear the applause.

I didn’t hear the cheers or the clinking glasses.

Just the sound of my own breath catching in my throat.

Fiancée.

My vision blurred, but I couldn’t look away. I squeezed the ends of my apron as hot tears formed behind my eyes. Why Ethan? Why?

He hadn’t just erased me. He had rewritten me—as if I never existed. As if I was just a caretaker who had outlived her use.

I backed away from the stair rail, hands trembling. Upstairs, everything felt too loud. The music. The laughter. The betrayal.

I allowed the tears to fall, soaking my chest. In front of everyone, Ethan denied me. Placed Anna above me like he'd always done. Made a fool out of me.

I sat on the bed and opened my drawer. Inside was the folder I had hidden months ago—divorce papers I never signed.

Until now.