5 minutes after the divorce, I flew abroad with my two kids. Meanwhile, all seven members of my ex-in-law’s family had gathered at the maternity clinic

Before I could even set the pen down, his phone rang.

That ringtone.

The one I had come to recognize. The one he never used for work.

He didn’t step outside. Didn’t lower his voice.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “it’s done.”

A pause. Then his tone softened—sickeningly sweet.

“I’m coming to you now. Today’s the checkup, right? Don’t worry, Vanessa… my whole family’s already heading there.”

He glanced at me briefly, like I was nothing more than furniture.

“Your baby is the future of everything. We’re finally getting our son.”

The mediator slid the final documents toward him.

Ethan didn’t read a single line.

He signed with a sharp, careless stroke and tossed the pen onto the table like he was closing a deal—not ending a marriage.

“There’s nothing to argue about,” he said flatly. “The condo was mine before the marriage. The car is mine.”

He shrugged.

“As for the kids… if she wants them, she can take them. Saves me the trouble.”

Something inside my chest tightened—but it didn’t break.

Not anymore.