Chapter 2

"Zoe, I'm not done fighting for you."

The words kept ringing in his head long after he hit send.

Ethan sat at the kitchen island, his elbows resting heavily on the cold marble, staring down at his phone like it might crack open and swallow him whole. His laptop sat open in front of him, filled with charts and numbers and half-written emails he couldn't bring himself to finish.

He hadn't slept. Couldn't. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw hers, empty, tired, looking at him like he was a stranger she'd already buried.

He replayed last night over and over. The way her voice shook. The way her fingers trembled around that envelope.

Divorce.

The word felt like it was chewing through his brain, blunt and merciless.

He hadn't even opened the papers, he just couldn't. They sat there on the console across the room, like a loaded gun he didn't know how to touch.

She'd actually done it.

God. He never thought she would.

Not Zoe.

His Zoe.

He used to think her silence was forgiveness. That her loyalty was something he never had to earn again. That there'd always be more time.

He was so wrong.

Now, all he felt was an ache so deep it felt carved into his bones, like someone had reached in while he slept and emptied out the best parts of him.

No.

Not yet.

He hadn't lost her yet.

Not as long as he was still breathing.

Zoe sat at her kitchen table, hands wrapped around a warm coffee mug. The email glowed on her phone screen, bright against the early morning dim. She'd read it three times already.

Short, raw and desperate.

It didn't sound like him. Ethan Carter could write a pitch that would charm investors out of their wallets without blinking. But this wasn't a pitch. This was just a man, stripped down to bone and regret.

Maybe that's all he was now. A distant voice. Too late.

She closed the email and set her phone down. Her chest felt tight, sore in a place that used to feel safe. She had a meeting in two hours. A campaign to launch. A life to keep living.

Without him.

She stood to fix her lipstick in the hallway mirror. That's when the knock came.

She froze.

No one ever knocked this early.

Her heart stuttered. Betrayed her before her mind caught up.

It was him.

Of course it was him.

Ethan stood on the other side of the door, his fists clenched tight at his sides, like he was holding himself together with nothing but sheer will. He hadn't planned to come. Between his 3 a.m. breakdown and his 7 a.m. regret, his car had somehow ended up outside her building. He didn't remember driving there. He just remembered needing to see her again. Needing her to see him.

She opened the door just wide enough to see him. Her eyes were tired and guarded, heavy with exhaustion that seemed to sit deep in her bones.

"You shouldn't be here," she said.

"I know."

"You sent an email. That was enough."

"It wasn't enough for me."

She stepped out into the hallway, letting the door click shut behind her. The quiet thud sounded final.

"So now what, Ethan?" she asked. Her voice was steady but stripped raw. "You want to cry? Apologize? Remember how to love me now that I'm leaving?"

His jaw tensed. "I've always loved you."

She let out a quiet, bitter laugh. "No... you loved the idea of me." The comfort. The person who made your life easier. But you didn't love me. Not when it counted."

He swallowed hard. "I thought I had time. "I thought... I thought you'd always be there."

"Time doesn't stop just because you're too busy to see what's right in front of you."

He stepped closer, and suddenly the hallway felt too narrow for all the things left unsaid between them. "I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. I just... need you to hear me out."

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, bracing herself, waiting for the blow she already knew was coming.

"I keep replaying it all," he said. "Trying to find the moment I lost you. I think it was the first time I missed dinner and didn't even bother to call. Or maybe the first time you looked at me, begging for something real, and I just... looked away." His voice shook. "You kept asking for love in all those quiet ways only you know how. And all I gave you was silence."

Her eyes burned, and she blinked hard, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to fall.

"I hate the man I used to be," Ethan whispered, his voice breaking. "But I'm not him anymore."

She let out a harsh, ragged scoff. "Oh, so what now? You're lonely, and you want a round of applause for figuring it out too late?"

"No," he said, his breathing uneven. "I don't want applause. I just... I want a chance to find my way back to you. And this time, I want to earn it. If that means standing outside your door every single morning until you believe me, then that's exactly what I'll do."

Her gaze snapped to his. Steel and sorrow flashed there, bright and sharp. "You can't fix a broken heart with a promise, Ethan."

"I'm not just making a promise," he said, his voice cracking. "I'm telling you the truth. I feel... wrecked. You walked away from me. But the truth is, I left you first. And I finally see that now."

She lowered her gaze to her bare feet, her hands trembling slightly at her sides.

"Why now?" she whispered. "Why not months ago? Why didn't you come to me when I was drowning?"

"Because I was arrogant," he said. "I thought you'd never leave me. And then you did."

For a moment, just the briefest flicker, something softened in her eyes. The woman who once loved him without question was still there, buried beneath all her walls.

But just as quickly, it was gone.

"This doesn't change anything," she said, her voice flat and distant again.

"I know. But it's a start."

She turned to unlock her door, and a wave of panic rose in his chest.

"Let me take you out to dinner."

She froze, her hand resting lightly on the doorknob.

Her breath caught, coming out shaky from her chest. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I won't," he said quietly, his eyes holding hers with a fierce, aching steadiness.

She didn't say yes.

But she didn't say no either.

That night, Zoe stood in front of her closet, staring at the red dress he used to call trouble on heels. Her hand hovered over the fabric.

She didn't know if she was walking into dinner or another heartbreak. But part of her needed to know what was left.

Of him.

Of herself.

She pulled it down with shaking fingers, her heart pounding against her ribs like it was trying to warn her.

Across town, Ethan sat alone at a small table by the window, glancing at his watch again and again. Hope and fear coiled in his stomach like something toxic.

Maybe she wouldn't come. Maybe he'd burned every last bridge between them.

And then he saw her.

She walked in like a storm wearing silk. His breath left him all at once.

Zoe.

She sat down across from him without a word. He reached for the wine list with hands that wouldn't stop shaking.

She didn't reach for the menu.

She just looked at him. Really looked.

Under the table, his leg bounced without him even thinking about it. He looked like a man who'd just watched his entire future walk in and sit down across from him.

She leaned forward, her voice low and steady.

"If you hurt me again, Ethan... I won't just leave."

She paused, eyes locked on his with unblinking finality.

"I'll burn everything we built. And I'll smile while I watch it fall."