Chapter6-Let’s get a divorce

Ethan’s POV Scarlett’s scream split the air like a blade. For one suspended heartbeat, time slowed. I turned just in time to see her stumble at the top of the stairs. Her arms flailed, grasping for something, anything but she caught only air. Then she fell. Her body hit the steps in a sickening rhythm before crumpling at the bottom in a heap of tangled limbs and silk. “Scarlett!” I shouted, my chest seizing as I ran to her. I dropped to my knees beside her, my pulse hammering. She groaned, her face twisting with pain. Relief hit me so hard I almost sagged with it. She was alive. “Don’t move,” I said, fumbling for my phone. My hands shook as I called for an ambulance, my voice clipped and urgent. When I hung up, Scarlett’s eyes flicked toward the top of the stairs. Her lips trembled. “Ethan… I’m fine. Just… shaken. Katelyn didn’t mean to…” I froze. Katelyn? Scarlett bit her lip, tears brimming. “It was an accident. She didn’t mean to, but… she pushed me.” Her whisper cut through me. Slowly, I turned my head. At the top of the stairs, Katelyn clung to the bannister like it was the only thing keeping her upright. Her face was drained of color, unreadable. Something cracked in my chest. Katelyn wouldn’t, or would she? The paramedics arrived, lifting Scarlett onto a stretcher with practiced care. I stayed at her side, clutching her hand. “You’ll be okay,” I murmured. She managed a faint, pained smile. When the doors of the ambulance closed, I glanced back. Katelyn wasn’t at the bannister anymore. She was on the floor at the top of the stairs, collapsed, her body frighteningly still. “Katelyn!” I barked, my voice rougher than I intended. My foot shifted toward her then stopped. For a fleeting moment, I considered going to her. She looked too pale, too fragile. Something in me twisted at the sight. But then Scarlett groaned weakly from the stretcher, pulling my attention back. “Ethan…” she whimpered. Duty anchored me. I turned away. “Let the staff know,” I muttered to a nurse, nodding toward Katelyn. “She needs to be checked on.” Without waiting for a reply, I climbed into the ambulance with Scarlett. At the hospital, the staff blocked me from following Katelyn. “She’s my wife,” I snapped, but they pushed me back. I clenched my fists, watching her disappear through double doors, her hand limp on the stretcher. Scarlett’s accusation echoed in my skull: She pushed me. Katelyn wouldn’t lie. But Scarlett wouldn’t either… would she? I paced the waiting room, a storm of doubt tightening in my chest. Then Rachel appeared, Katelyn’s loyal friend, guiding her slowly into the room. Katelyn’s face was pale, her body swaying. An IV was taped to the back of her hand. Rachel’s glare cut into me. “Do you even realize what you’ve done, Ethan? You can’t even take care of your own Luna.” “She’s fine,” I said automatically, though the words felt hollow even to me. “Fine?” Rachel spat. “Where were you when her mother died? When she needed you? With Scarlett.” Her words hit harder than I wanted to admit. Katelyn’s soft voice broke through before I could respond. “That’s enough.” We both turned. She stood there, fragile yet unyielding, her gaze fixed on me. “Katelyn,” I said, stepping forward. “How are you?” Her lips curved into a bitter smile. “Not dead.” The words cut me open in ways I didn’t expect. She studied me for a long moment, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Do you believe I pushed Scarlett?” The question rooted me in place. I hesitated. That hesitation alone was my answer. Her eyes glistened, though the tears didn’t fall. “That’s all I needed to know.” “Katelyn, wait…” “No.” Her voice sharpened, but beneath it lay a pain that bled into every syllable. “Enough, Ethan. This marriage has been a one-woman show from the start. I’ve spent three years begging for scraps of affection, trying to prove myself to you. But I’ve been fooling myself.” Her hand trembled as she pressed it to her chest, as if to hold herself together. “Do you know what it feels like to fight every day for someone who doesn’t even look at you? To sleep beside a ghost? To be invisible in your own marriage?” The silence between us roared. Finally, her voice cracked, but her words remained steady. “I, Katelyn Watson of the Moonlight Pack, refuse to be your Luna.” The declaration struck harder than any blow. I sneered to mask the ache twisting in my ribs. “If you leave, you’ll be rogue. Do you understand? You’ll be hunted. You won’t survive.” She lifted her chin, the tears finally spilling over. “I don’t care. I’d rather be rogue than live like this.” The finality in her tone chilled me. I opened my mouth, searching for something, an excuse or a plea, anything to anchor her. “Listen, I…” “Let’s get a divorce,” she whispered. Calm and final, like the toll of a bell at a funeral.