No Second Chances Ex-husband (Lauren and Ethan) novel Chapter 40

TESSA'S POV

I didn’t even realize my legs had gone numb from kneeling on the cold floor until Ethan’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Get her out of here!” he barked, his voice hoarse, raw with something between grief and rage. His eyes were bloodshot, the veins around his temples standing out.

Lauren stayed frozen in my arms, her cheek pressed against my shoulder, her tears soaking through the fabric of my shirt. I could feel the faint, hollow tremor of her sobs as she kept whispering the same words over and over under her breath, “My baby… my baby…”

At first, she barely seemed to hear Ethan. But then he came closer, his footsteps heavy and angry on the tiled floor. His shadow fell over us, and even before I looked up, I could feel the heat of his anger radiating like fire.

“I said get out!” he shouted, his voice cracking at the end, as though grief had tightened its grip around his throat.

Lauren didn’t even flinch. It was like her mind and soul were somewhere else, locked in the past — maybe still sitting beside Elena, stroking her cold cheek, refusing to believe what she’d seen.

“Ethan, please,” I tried to speak, my voice soft, but he wasn’t listening.

His hand shot out and grabbed Lauren by the arm. The force of it pulled her body away from mine, and she stumbled forward, barely catching herself. I saw the pain flash across her face not just from the grip, but from being torn out of that moment with her daughter.

“No… no, Ethan,” she gasped, her voice strangled, her hand reaching back as though she could claw her way to where Elena’s body had been. “Please, let me stay. I need to be by her side for just a few more minutes please!”

He didn’t answer. His jaw was tight, lips white at the edges, eyes glassy with tears that wouldn’t fall. He dragged her across the floor toward the door, his grip unrelenting.

“Ethan, stop! She’s grieving! Please, don’t do this!” I shouted, my words falling flat in the cold, heavy air of the room.

Lauren tried to dig her heels into the floor, but she had barely eaten, barely slept, and her body was limp, her strength gone. “Don’t make me leave her… please… she needs me… she’ll be scared…”

“She’s gone!” Ethan shouted, turning on her, his voice breaking, raw grief spilling out with his words. “Don’t you get it? She’s gone, Lauren! There’s nothing left to stay for!”

The words slammed into the air, heavy and final. For a second, Lauren’s body went limp, her arm falling to her side, her eyes empty. And then she started fighting again, weakly, desperately.

“I’m her mother! I can’t leave her!” she sobbed, her voice shattering into pieces.

He reached the front door, wrenched it open, and with one hard shove, pushed her outside. She fell to the pavement, her knees hitting the stone with a dull thud. I rushed to her, but Ethan’s voice stopped me.

“Don’t come back,” he hissed, each word soaked in agony and fury. “My lawyer will contact you about the funeral. Until then, stay away from my house.”

Then he turned, and the door slammed shut behind him. The sound echoed in the night, leaving a silence that felt like a slap.

For a moment, all I could hear was Lauren’s ragged breathing and the faint hum of the street lamps above. Her body was curled in on itself, arms wrapped around her stomach, forehead pressed against the pavement as if she could sink into the ground and disappear.

I knelt beside her, my chest tight, my own tears stinging my eyes. “Come on, let’s get you up,” I whispered, my voice barely carrying through the heavy air.

She didn’t respond. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs, but she made no move to get up. Her hair fell over her face, tangled and streaked with blood and tears.

I placed my hand on her back, feeling the thin fabric of her dress damp from the cold stone and her sweat. “Lauren, please. You’ll get sick out here. Let’s go.”

Her head lifted, and I caught a glimpse of her eyes — hollow, unfocused, as if she wasn’t really seeing me at all. It was like the spark of life in her had been snuffed out, leaving behind only an empty shell.

“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking on the single word. “She needs me. I can’t leave her. She’ll be scared…”

Her words stabbed at my heart. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced my voice to stay calm. “Sweetheart, she’s not alone. You know that. But right now, you need to take care of yourself, too.”

She didn’t move.

She sat, but didn’t touch the food. Her fingers just pushed the spoon back and forth, stirring without purpose.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked gently, fighting to keep my voice steady. “It’s already getting cold.”

She didn’t answer. After a few seconds, she stood, turned away, and walked slowly toward the bedroom. “Lauren,” I called softly, but she kept walking, her steps heavy and slow.

I sighed, my chest tight, watching her disappear into the hallway.

The apartment felt empty again. The laughter and little footsteps of Elena were gone, replaced by silence so loud it rang in my ears. The dining table that had felt so full of life now seemed like a grave.

I tried to clean up, wiping away tears as I did. Hours slipped by, and around 3 a.m., I heard the sound of soft, broken sobs drifting through the apartment.

I walked quietly to the bedroom, heart pounding, and pushed the door open.

Lauren was sitting on the floor, surrounded by Elena’s tiny dresses and holding a photograph close to her chest. Her shoulders shook as she cried, each sob tearing its way out of her like it was breaking her apart.

I went to her, sat beside her on the floor, and wrapped my arm gently around her trembling frame. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered, even though I knew the words weren’t true — not tonight, not tomorrow.

But it was all I could give her.

She leaned into me, her tears soaking into my shirt, and I held her tighter, wishing I could carry some of her pain for her.

In that quiet, broken moment, all I could do was stay by her side.

And pray she wouldn’t give up completely.