You Broke Me First

Chapter 9

The divorce papers lay between them.

For months, Ethan had refused to sign them.

He had delayed meetings, questioned agreements, and searched for every possible reason to keep the marriage from ending.

But tonight, something was different.

Kaycee sat across from him, completely calm.

Ethan stared at her.

"Do you really want this divorce?"

Kaycee didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

"You don't even need to think about it?"

"No."

His hands tightened.

"Do you still care about me?"

Kaycee looked at him for a moment.

"I cared about you for a long time."

"That's not what I asked."

She remained silent.

Ethan's voice grew sharper.

"Do you still have feelings for me?"

"No."

The answer came so easily that Ethan looked away.

"Not even a little?"

"No."

"After everything we had?"

Kaycee's expression remained unreadable.

"That was five years ago."

"You loved me."

"I did."

"You fought for our marriage."

"I did."

"You begged me to believe you."

Kaycee's eyes lowered briefly.

"Yes."

"Then how can you sit there now and act like none of it mattered?"

She looked back at him.

"It mattered."

Ethan's expression softened for a moment.

Then Kaycee continued.

"It mattered enough for me to realize I never want to experience it again."

Silence.

Ethan swallowed.

"If I apologized?"

"I'd accept your apology."

"If I told you I regretted everything?"

"I'd believe you."

"If I changed?"

"I hope you do."

He stared at her.

"Then why won't you come back?"

Kaycee gave him a quiet look.

"Because forgiveness isn't the same as reconciliation."

Ethan looked down.

For months, he had convinced himself that if he delayed long enough, something would change.

Maybe Kaycee would remember the good times.

Maybe she would forgive him.

Maybe she still loved him.

But there was nothing left to hold onto.

He picked up the pen.

Kaycee watched silently.

Ethan signed the divorce papers.

His hand paused for a second after the final signature.

Then he pushed the documents toward her.

"It's over."

Kaycee looked at the papers.

For five years, she had imagined how she would feel when the marriage finally ended.

She expected relief.

Maybe anger.

Maybe sadness.

Instead, there was only peace.

She picked up the documents.

"Thank you."

Ethan gave a bitter smile.

"That's all?"

Kaycee nodded.

"That's all."

He leaned back in his chair.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

Kaycee thought about it.

"I already have."

His eyes lifted.

"But I won't forget."

Ethan nodded slowly.

He finally understood.

There was no way back.

Kaycee stood and gathered her things.

At the door, she stopped.

"Ethan."

He looked at her.

"I hope you find happiness."

For some reason, those words hurt more than anything else.

Because Kaycee wasn't saying them as his wife.

She was saying them as someone who had finally moved on.

She walked out.

Ethan remained alone in the room.

The divorce was finally over.

And for the first time, he let her go.

Not because he wanted to.

But because he finally understood that loving someone—even regretting losing them—didn't give him the right to keep them.

Kaycee Reed was free.

And somewhere deep inside, Ethan knew—

He had lost her long before he signed the papers.