Chapter 6 - Vanessa's Departure
Ethan returned to the apartment in New Haven feeling like a hollow shell. The reality of his situation had finally set in. There was no safety net. No secret reprieve. He was entirely, brutally on his own.
When he unlocked the door, the apartment felt strangely quiet.
"Vanessa?" he called out, his voice echoing slightly.
He walked into the bedroom and stopped. The closet doors were wide open, and Vanessa's clothes—the designer dresses she had fiercely guarded, the expensive bags, the rows of shoes—were gone. The drawers were emptied.
On the kitchen counter, next to a stack of unpaid utility bills, lay a piece of paper. Ethan walked over, his hands trembling as he picked it up.
Ethan, I can't do this anymore. This life is suffocating me. I married a man with a future, not a man who gets outsmarted by his own mother. I've contacted a lawyer, and you'll be served with divorce papers soon. Don't look for me. I'm staying with someone who can actually provide for me. — V
Ethan dropped the letter. A hysterical, broken laugh bubbled up from his chest, turning quickly into a heavy, racking sob. He sank to the linoleum floor, pulling his knees to his chest.
She was gone. The woman he had defended against his own mother, the woman he had tried to impress by acting like a ruthless tyrant, had abandoned him the moment the gold ran out. It was a poetic, devastating justice.
For the first time in his life, Ethan Mercer had absolutely nothing. He had no money, no wife, no family, and no pride. He spent the next three days in the dark, barely eating, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he shoved his mother over and over in his mind. The sound of the breaking glass haunted his dreams.
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On the fourth day, the eviction notice was enforced. Ethan packed a single suitcase with his remaining clothes. He walked down the street to a local diner that had a 'Help Wanted' sign in the window. He walked in, swallowed the last remnants of his enormous pride, and asked the manager for an application to wash dishes.
It paid minimum wage. It was greasy, exhausting, and humiliating work. But as Ethan stood over the steaming sink that night, scrubbing burnt food off plates, he felt a strange, terrifying sense of clarity. There was nowhere lower to go. He had to climb, and this time, he had to do it alone.
