Stay Away Ethan, Not Yours Anymore.

The house had gone quiet after the chaos of their departure. But silence didn't mean peace.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes distant. The memory played on loop: Anna giggling as she walked out of the master bedroom that morning, wearing Ethan's shirt, her hair tousled, her skin glowing.

Our bed.

The same bed Ethan and forbidden me from entering four years ago, saying he needed space, that my presence suffocated him.

I remembered how I used to curl up on the couch in the guest room, clutching my pillow while listening to his footsteps fade away upstairs. And now— Anna walked those same steps, slept on those same sheets, untouched by shame.

My fingers curled around the black card he'd thrown at me like it was a bone for a starving dog. His voice echoed cruelly in my ears: "Get anything you want. But don't go crazy."

That was it.

Hurt me, and after that try to get me things that I have been starved for just to compensate me, or what?

My grip tightened.

Enough!!!

I rose, walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Steam fogged the mirror as I stepped in, letting the water wash away the filth of years— of rejection, of pain, of pretending.

When I stepped out, I was no longer the same Avery.

I dressed in a soft crimson body con dress that hugged my gentle curves like it was made just for me. My waist, once hidden behind loose aprons and faded sweaters, now defined like sculpture. I applied a foundation that melted into my skin, a glow radiating from high cheekbones he once told me were "too sharp." My almond eyes were lined in gold, my lips painted a deep, confident red. My long black hair cascaded over my shoulders in soft waves— thick, luxurious, gleaming. Ethan had once told me to stop using my "cheap" hair oil— it smelled "too local." Not, I smelled of roses, musk, and liberation.

This was the version of Avery he had tried to bury, but today, I exhumed myself.

I stepped into the garage, selected one of Ethan's sleek cars— silver, clean, powerful. The kind he said wasn't "safe" for me to drive. I slipped into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition without hesitation.

Before I backed out, I turned off my phone.

I didn't need interruptions. Not today.

The shopping mall glistened under the noon sun, its glass walls reflecting a world of luxury— one I'd only ever watched from afar.

But today, I entered.

From boutique to boutique, I didn't hesitate. I walked past the "Sake" section and straight into the heart of the stores.

I tried on flowing silk dresses, fitted suits, leather jackets, designer heels that clicked proudly against polished floors. I bought perfumes in crystal bottles, bags with gold-etched logos, lingerie that whispered elegance.

I had lived in rags while Ethan pampered Anna in pearls.

No more.

My arms were full of shopping bags by the time I finished, my steps light. I didn't glance at the debit alerts Ethan must be getting — I imagined his phone buzzing incessantly, his face tightening in panic.

At the family function, Ethan's phone vibrated again and again.

Debit Alert: -$5999

Debit Alert: -$987

Debit Alert: -$10000

"What the hell..." He muttered, his face paling.

Anna leaned over. "Everything okay?"

He stood abruptly, dialing Avery's number.

Straight to voicemail. Again. Again.

"Where the hell is she?" He growled.

Back at the house, I returned home like a storm.

I dumped the old rags in a trash bag. The clothes that once made me ashamed to leave the house, the torn slippers, the faded apron— gone. Replaced with silks and satins, with shoes that made me feel like I had roots and wings at the same time.

I walked into the master bedroom— his room and placed the black card on his pillow.

And then I reached under the drawer. The documents were still there.

The divorce papers.

The ones he'd use to threaten me countless times. "One wrong step, and I'll make you sign it. You'll be nothing."

Not today.

I picked up the pen and signed my name.

With a steady and.

I folded the papers and placed them neatly beside the card on the bed.

I gathered my new things, zipped my suitcase, and dragged it down the steps..my heart didn't pound. My body didn't tremble. I was calm.

At the door, I paused.

I pulled out my phone, turned it on.

34 missed calls. Ethan.

"What a jerk!" I scoffed and stepped outside

A cab waited at the curb. I placed my bag in the truck and slipped into the back seat.

“Rose Villa," I said quietly.

What Ethan didn't know even after cutting off my expenses was that I was secretly writing, freelancing and earning money which I was saving for moments like this.

The vacation I had always wanted, I was going for it.

The new area buzzed with strangers.

I stood by the large window near the estate gate, my phone held steady.

One final photo.

My head held high, my lips curved in a gentle smile. Behind me, the estate board blinked with lights and directions to new homes, new lives.

I added a caption.

"Cheers to a new life."

And posted it.

Then I turned.

And walked towards the gate without looking back.