Chapter 8 - Ethan’s Desperation
With Lily defeated and her legal team disbanded, Ethan’s defense completely fell apart. From his cold, damp jail cell, he finally realized he was facing decades behind bars with absolutely zero financial support. In a desperate, final bid for survival, he begged his court-appointed public defender to beg for an emergency meeting with me.
Against Naomi’s strong advice, I went to the high-security jail. I wanted to see him behind the thick glass. I wanted to see the arrogant, handsome man who had once called me "stupid" wearing a bright, demeaning orange jumpsuit.
He looked absolutely pathetic. His hair was greasy and unwashed, his designer stubble had turned into a ragged, neglected beard, and the arrogant, confident smirk was completely gone. When he picked up the prison phone, his hands were trembling so violently he almost dropped it.
"Claire... please," he wept, pressing his dirty hand against the glass partition. "You have to help me. Talk to the prosecutors. Drop the corporate fraud charges. If I go to a maximum-security federal facility, I won't survive! I'm sorry! I was stupid, Lily seduced me, she manipulated me and poisoned my mind against you from the very beginning!"
I listened to him throw my sister under the bus without a single second of hesitation. It was pathetic, yet entirely predictable. A snake will always bite its own tail when cornered.
"You really are a parasite, Ethan," I said through the receiver, my voice completely devoid of any warmth or hatred. It was just cold, hard fact. "You married me for my money, you slept with my sister, you fathered a child behind my back, and now you’re crying like a dog. I didn't come here to negotiate with you. I came here to hand-deliver this. Our divorce was officially finalized this morning. The judge granted it under extreme marital fraud and felony arrest. You get absolutely nothing."
"Claire, no! Please! Give me a second chance! I love you! I've always loved you!" he screamed, his voice cracking as he began to bang on the glass.
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"The only thing you ever loved was my father's bank account," I replied. "Enjoy the next twenty-five years, Ethan. You've earned every single day of it."
I hung up the phone, stood up, and walked out into the crisp autumn air, never looking back.
