The other Woman
464 Words
I met her two days later.
I was in the kitchen, still trying to remember where Ethan kept things, when the doorbell rang. I assumed it was a delivery. Or maybe his assistant.
I was wrong.
She walked in like she belonged there.
Tall. Elegant. Confident in a way that came from knowing exactly who you were—and what you could take.
“Oh,” she said, pausing when she saw me. Her lips curved into a slow smile. “You must be Ava.”
I straightened. “And you are?”
“Clara,” she replied smoothly. “Ethan’s—” she hesitated, eyes flicking over my ring, “—old friend.”
Old friend.
Right.
Before I could respond, Ethan entered the room. The moment he saw her, his expression shifted.
“Clara,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “You weren’t answering my calls.”
The silence between them spoke louder than words.
I forced a polite smile. “Would you like some coffee?”
Clara studied me, then smiled wider. “No need. I won’t stay long.”
She turned to Ethan. “We need to talk.”
His jaw tightened. “Now’s not a good time.”
She glanced at me again. “I see.”
I folded my arms, refusing to step away. “I’m his wife. If there’s something to say, you can say it here.”
Ethan looked at me sharply. “Ava—”
But Clara laughed softly. “Oh, don’t worry. I already know.”
Know what?
“I just wanted to see for myself,” she continued. “The woman who replaced me.”
Replaced.
The word burned.
Ethan’s voice was firm now. “Clara, stop.”
She held up her hands. “Relax. I’m not here to cause trouble.” Her gaze met mine again. “Just curiosity.”
She turned toward the door, then paused.
“Take care of him,” she said to me quietly. “He doesn’t let people get close easily.”
Then she was gone.
The door closed behind her, leaving the room thick with tension.
I turned to Ethan slowly.
“Who was she?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
“Someone from my past.”
I took a step closer. “Were you in love with her?”
His eyes snapped to mine.
“That’s none of your business.”
Something inside me twisted.
“Then don’t bring your past into my present,” I said quietly.
He stared at me for a long moment.
“You wanted honesty,” he said. “Careful what you ask for.”
And for the first time…
I wasn’t sure I wanted the truth.
- Writer
