The will was upheld.
They had lost.
After the ruling, I expected an explosion.
A screaming match.
Some final desperate attempt to claw something back.
Instead, they just left.
No words.
No final threats.
Just silence.
I didn’t hear from them for months.
Not a call.
Not a text.
Not even some passive-aggressive email from my mother.
It was eerie.
At first, I thought maybe, just maybe, they had finally given up.
That they had accepted their loss and moved on.
I should have known better.
One night, I was coming home late from work when I noticed a car parked across the street from my apartment.
Black sedan.
Tinted windows.
It had been there a few times before, but I brushed it off as coincidence.
That night, though, as I walked up my front steps, the driver’s side window rolled down.
And there was Ethan.
He looked rough.
Unshaven.
Hollow-eyed.
His usual smug arrogance replaced with something desperate.
He didn’t say anything at first.
Just stared at me.
I turned to unlock my door.
“Wait.”
His voice cracked.
“Just… just talk to me for a second.”
I sighed, crossing my arms.
“What do you want, Ethan?”
He swallowed hard.
“They’re gone.”
I blinked.
“What?”