You Broke Me First

Chapter 3

Ethan found Kaycee in the garden the following morning.

She sat beneath the shade of a tree, a cup of tea resting on the small table beside her.

For a moment, he simply watched her.

Five years ago, Kaycee would have immediately noticed him.

She would have smiled.

Called his name.

Asked him how his day was.

But now, she didn't even look up.

"Are you going to stand there all day?" she asked calmly.

Ethan's brows furrowed.

"You knew I was here?"

Kaycee took another sip of her tea.

"I heard you."

He walked closer.

She still didn't look at him.

Ethan stopped in front of her.

"About the divorce."

Kaycee placed her cup down.

"Have you signed the papers?"

His expression hardened.

"No."

"Then there's nothing to discuss."

She reached for her cup again.

Ethan caught it before she could.

Kaycee slowly looked at him.

"Put it down."

"I don't want a divorce."

Her expression didn't change.

For some reason, that irritated him.

Ethan had expected an argument.

He had expected her to ask him why.

Instead, she simply stared at him.

Then she nodded.

"I see."

That was it.

Just two words.

Ethan frowned.

"That's all you're going to say?"

Kaycee tilted her head slightly.

"What would you like me to say?"

"You've been gone for five years."

"And?"

"You come back and immediately ask me for a divorce."

"Yes."

"And you expect me to just agree?"

Kaycee leaned back in her chair.

"No. I expect you to make things difficult. You always did."

His jaw tightened.

"I didn't send you to prison."

For the first time, Kaycee's fingers paused around her cup.

But her expression remained calm.

"No."

Ethan watched her carefully.

"You didn't."

A strange relief passed through him.

Then she continued.

"But you made sure I went there alone."

The relief disappeared.

Silence.

Kaycee looked away.

"I begged you to believe me."

Ethan said nothing.

"I told you I was innocent."

Her voice wasn't angry.

That made it worse.

"I asked you to investigate. To listen to me. To give me one chance to explain."

She finally looked at him.

"But you had already decided I was guilty."

Ethan swallowed.

"Isabella had evidence."

Kaycee smiled.

A cold, humorless smile.

"Of course she did."

"Kaycee—"

"No."

She stood from her chair.

Ethan watched as she picked up her cup.

"I don't want to talk about what happened five years ago."

His eyes narrowed.

"Then what do you want?"

She looked directly at him.

"A divorce."

"Why?"

Kaycee blinked.

The question almost made her laugh.

"Why?"

"Yes."

She placed her cup on the table.

Then she stepped closer to him.

"Because I don't love you anymore."

Ethan froze.

For the first time, something changed in his expression.

Kaycee noticed.

But she felt nothing.

"I spent five years learning how to live without you," she continued calmly. "Do you really think I'm going to come back and pretend none of it happened?"

"I never said that."

"You don't have to."

Ethan stepped closer.

"I can make things right."

Kaycee stared at him.

Then she laughed softly.

Not because it was funny.

But because she couldn't believe him.

"Make things right?"

"Yes."

"Can you give me back five years?"

He said nothing.

"Can you give me back my reputation?"

Silence.

"My family?"

Ethan's eyes darkened.

"The life I had?"

Nothing.

Kaycee nodded.

"Exactly."

She walked past him.

But Ethan grabbed her arm.

This time, Kaycee immediately pulled away.

"Don't."

Her voice was quiet.

But cold.

Ethan slowly lowered his hand.

"I don't want a divorce, Kaycee."

She looked at him for a long moment.

Then her lips curved into the faintest smile.

"That's unfortunate."

Ethan stared at her.

Kaycee adjusted the sleeve of her blouse.

"I want one."

Then she walked away.

Leaving him standing alone in the garden.

Ethan looked down at the divorce papers still in his hand.

Five years ago, Kaycee had begged him not to abandon her.

Now?

He was the one asking her not to leave.

And for the first time, Ethan Morales began to understand something terrifying.

Kaycee Reed wasn't trying to punish him.

She wasn't pretending to be indifferent.

She truly didn't care anymore.

And somehow—

That hurt more than her hatred ever could