Chapter 82: I’m done
Ethan’s heart pounded like a war drum, his breath ragged with fury. Betrayal wrapped around his chest like a vice, tightening with every painful thought. He had every right to be angry hadn’t he apologized when he cheated? Didn’t that make him the better person? But Mara, Mara had done something far worse. Something unforgivable.
A growl of frustration tore from his throat as he stormed toward his car.
"Ethan, stop!" Steph called out, his voice laced with desperation. He reached for Ethan’s arm, but Ethan wrenched away.
"I don’t wanna hear it!" Ethan barked, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions. Without another word, he flung himself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
"Don’t do anything stupid!" Steph yelled as Ethan revved the engine, tires screeching against the pavement. But Ethan was beyond reason now. He was drowning in rage, in heartbreak. The betrayal burned in his veins, hotter than fire. He hit the gas, launching forward into the night.
Lucy saw it all unfold and didn’t hesitate. She leaped into her own car, her heart racing. This was her chance. Ethan was shattered, vulnerable—she would be the one to pick up his broken pieces. Mara had hurt him, but she wouldn’t. No, Lucy would love him, heal him. And tonight, he would finally see it.
Ethan pushed his car to the limit, the speedometer climbing higher and higher. His hands gripped the wheel so tightly. He was blind with rage, deaf to the blaring horns of the cars he recklessly overtook. His vision blurred with unshed tears. Why? Why would Mara do this to him? After everything? The thoughts consumed him, dark and poisonous until they were all that remained.
The city lights streaked past in a haze. He didn’t care where he was going. He just needed to run, to escape the pain clawing at his insides. But the faster he drove, the louder it screamed.
His foot pressed harder on the gas. The world around him was a blur, but all he could see was Mara’s face her betrayal her lies.
He gritted his teeth, his chest heaving, his heartbreaking apart piece by piece. He didn’t see the red light ahead. He didn’t hear the screeching of tires behind him.
And then—