When Love Ends, I Set You Free

“It’s all over now. Once I take Ethan back to his hometown for his mother’s funeral, we’ll get our license, okay?”

My arms loosened around her.

So this sudden tenderness—it had only been for this.

And I’d been foolish enough to think she truly saw my pain.

But this time, I didn’t argue.

“Fine.”

Claire lit up with joy.

“That’s my good husband!”

She hugged and kissed me eagerly. Her breath rushed against my ear, lips brushing mine.

I turned my head away. “My hand’s injured. Not now.”

Her face darkened.

“I’m going to shower. You should get some sleep.”

That night, I lay awake. Even through the wall, I could hear the heavy breaths from her room—harsh and infuriating.

By morning, the house was empty. She had left with Ethan for the funeral.

I packed my things, left the house keys and wedding ring on the coffee table, and closed the door behind me.

That was the end of us.

At one in the afternoon, I arrived punctually at the City Hall Marriage Bureau.

A black Maybach pulled up. A woman in a white business suit stepped out gracefully.

“Let’s go. I only need ten minutes.”

I nodded and walked with her.

“Watch out!”

Suddenly, Isabella Bennett pulled me into her arms as a flowerpot crashed to the ground where I’d been standing.

My heart raced as I looked up at her, stunned.

“You’re still the same as when you were a kid. Always walking without watching.”

She released me, but kept hold of my hand as she led me inside.

Within minutes, we had our license.

Isabella had an urgent meeting, so I drove home alone.

I stared at the marriage certificate in my hand, dazed.

“How is she?” My father’s voice came over the phone, full of pride.

“She’s the one I chose for you. I knew I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Since I’d decided to let go of Claire, he had been searching for a suitable match. He’d collaborated with Claire often in business, which was why he once preferred her.

“She’s much better than Claire,” I admitted.

Then my eyes landed on Ethan’s newest post online:

[ Thank you for being there, making my mother’s passing less painful. ]

A scenic photo accompanied it.

I knew he meant Claire. And her “like” beneath the post stabbed me like a knife.

In ten years, she’d never once liked anything I posted.

Even the day my mother died, she had been too busy with classes to offer me comfort.

That vow she made to my mom—it had all been for show.

Bitterly, I pressed “like” on Ethan’s post.

In an elevator somewhere, Claire stared at her phone in shock.

“You liked this? Ethan, did you do it on my account?”

Ethan’s face turned red, stammering nonsense.

But Claire’s hands trembled when she saw it.

Then came a new notification—my post.

[ Turns out getting a marriage license isn’t that hard. ]

Photo: my marriage certificate.

[ Who did you marry? ]

A message popped up from her.

I glanced at it—and blocked her.

[ Don’t joke around. ]

[ Marriage isn’t something you play games with. ]