PART 3 — The Truth Behind the Perfect Marriage
The front door opened.
Ethan’s confidence disappeared completely.
A man in his sixties walked inside with a folder in his hand.
Behind him was a lawyer.
“Good evening,” the man said.
His eyes moved around the room.
The broken plate.
The frozen kitchen.
Maya standing barefoot beside the sink.
His expression changed.
“I believe I understand the situation.”
Ethan immediately stepped forward.
“This is a misunderstanding.”
The man ignored him.
He looked at Maya.
“Miss Sterling, are you being treated like this every day?”
Maya froze.
Her eyes moved toward Ethan.
That was the problem.
She was still afraid.
Even with me standing beside her.
Even with help in the room.
She was still afraid to tell the truth.
I walked to her slowly.
I took her cold hands into mine.
“You don’t have to protect him anymore.”
A tear rolled down her cheek.
And for the first time, Maya spoke.
Quietly.
“He gets angry when I disagree.”
Silence.
“He says I’m lucky he married me.”
Another tear.
“He says nobody else would want me.”
Ethan’s face turned pale.
“Maya, don’t exaggerate.”
She looked at him.
And something changed.
The scared woman in the kitchen was gone.
Because she finally realized she wasn’t alone.
“You told me I was worthless,” she whispered.
“You made me believe it.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
“This is between husband and wife.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
My voice was steady.
“This is about someone who has been hurting my daughter.”
The lawyer opened the folder.
Inside were documents.
Property ownership papers.
Security reports.
And something else.
A copy of messages Ethan had sent.
Threatening messages.
Manipulative messages.
The owner looked at Ethan.
“You violated the agreement.”
Ethan swallowed.
“What agreement?”
“The agreement that allowed you to live here.”
His face changed.
“You mean…”
“Yes.”
The man closed the folder.
“You have seven days to leave.”
Beatrice gasped.
“You can’t do this.”
The man looked at her.
“I can.”
Then he turned toward Maya.
“And your mother was right to call.”
Ethan looked at Maya.
Not with love.
Not with regret.
With anger.
“You’re choosing her over me?”
Maya looked at him for a long moment.
Then she answered.
“No.”
May you like
A pause.
“I’m choosing myself.”
