Woke Up and Left the Cage of My Marriage 17
Chapter 17
Ethan picked up the fridge magnet-it was still warm from Natalie’s touch. He ran outside, but all he saw were the tail lights of a tour bus speeding away into the night.
That evening, he stayed alone in the same hotel room where Natalie Bennett had slept. Outside the window, the barren ice fields and silent night sky stretched endlessly.
He opened her alternate account again.
She’d updated.
It was a photo of the aurora, vivid green light swirling across the night sky-like a goddess casting a veil of light.
The caption was only one word: “Rebirth.”
Ethan stood by the window, gazing out at what might have been the same sky that had just held the aurora, but now was nothing but an impenetrable darkness and a cold that cut to the
bone.
She was like the aurora-brilliant, free, unattainable. And he was just a traveler, stranded
alone on the ice.
The third lead was more concrete.
A tiny Southeast Asian island, famous for calm waters and diving. In the photo, Natalie Bennett wore a simple sundress. Barefoot on the white sand, flip-flops dangling from one hand, she walked into the sunset, her shadow stretching long behind her.
Her face was turned slightly, lips curled in a carefree, radiant smile. No trace of sadness. It looked as if all the pain from the last three years had been swept away by ocean breeze,
washed clean by the waves.
That joy-so alive, so unburdened after leaving him-cut Ethan deeper than blame or anger
ever could.
He wished she’d hate him, curse him, even break down and cry. At least then, he would still
matter to her.
But this calm, this ease-this sense of new beginnings-was like a silent verdict: “Ethan Fletcher, and everything connected to you, in Natalie Bennett’s world, is lighter than dust- no longer worth mentioning.”
So he set off again.
This time, he made sure everything was arranged-he wouldn’t let her slip through his
Chapter 17
fingers again.
When the plane touched down, heat and humidity hit him like a wave.
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He went straight to the beachside address the detective gave him. There was a quiet wooden cottage with a private stretch of sand.
Ethan stood beneath a palm tree, heart hammering so hard he could barely breathe.
He’d imagined this reunion so many times. Maybe she’d rage at him. Maybe she’d mock him or break down in tears. He’d prepared himself for anything.
He took a deep breath and smoothed the collar of his wrinkled shirt, even though it was pointless now.
He stepped forward, walking up to the cottage.
Just as he neared the door, it swung open from inside.
Natalie Bennett came out.
She wore a simple white cotton dress. Her hair was tied casually at the back of her neck, showing her long, graceful throat.
No makeup, no decoration-she looked more radiant than ever in Ethan’s memory.
She held a cup of water, like she was about to sit on the porch rocker to read in the sun.
Seeing Ethan suddenly appear, she paused. For a split second, a flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes-so brief that Ethan thought he must have imagined it.
It vanished right away. What replaced it was pure, cold calm.
Her gaze was as indifferent as if she were looking at a stranger-or a piece of furniture.
No anger. No hate. Not even the slightest ripple of feeling.
Her cool detachment hurt worse than the sharpest blade.
Everything Ethan had prepared-every word of apology, every plea he’d rehearsed a thousand
times-froze in his throat.
He looked at her, so close and yet impossibly far. It felt like an unbridgeable canyon had opened between them.
He opened his mouth; his voice was hoarse from nerves and dryness, with a faint but
unmistakable tremor:
“Natalie…” He used every bit of strength just to say her name—the name he’d whispered in his heart over and over. His eyes went red. “I… I know everything now… It was all my fault… I
Chapter 17
was blind… Come home with me. Please?”
He let go of his pride-his words trembled with a humility and desperation he’d never felt
before.
3/3
Natalie Bennett just looked at him, calm and steady, like his heartfelt confession was nothing but a breeze. She even shifted slightly to the side, letting the sunlight in, her tone distant and polite:
“Mr. Fletcher, you’re blocking my sunlight.”
“Mr. Fletcher.”
It likes bullets, which hit Ethan straight in the heart.
He lurched forward, reaching for her arm. She slipped away, smooth and effortless.
“Natalie! Listen to me! I’ve dealt with Vivian Grant! She’s in jail now! And the family chapel… the poisoning… I know about it all! I’m the one who wronged you! Punish me any way you want! Hit me, yell at me–I’ll accept anything! Just… please don’t look at me like that… don’t turn away…”
His words tumbled out, broken and frantic. He dropped to one knee in the rough sand, clutching the hem of her dress like a drowning man grabs a lifeline.
For the first time in his life, Ethan Fletcher-the ruler of the southern city, the head of his family-knelt before a woman in utter humility.
But Natalie Bennett just lowered her eyes to his hand gripping her skirt, frowning as if he’d touched something dirty.
She pulled her dress away from his grip, inch by inch, until she was free.
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