No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 105

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**
**Chapter 105: Shattered and Humiliated**

In the depths of his heart, she had always been the one he would willingly sacrifice everything for.

Amelia gradually pushed herself into a sitting position, her body protesting with every movement.

The sharp, stabbing pain in her waist was insignificant compared to the agony that clawed at her heart, making it feel as if it was being violently ripped apart.

Her gaze fixed on the chaotic scene unfolding before her, her eyes burning with a fierce, angry redness.

Ethan, caught in the moment, seemed to fully grasp the weight of his actions. Hannah continued to weep in his embrace, but when he turned to see Amelia’s pale, desolate face, a wave of panic surged through him.

“Amelia!” he called out, instinctively releasing Hannah to reach for her.

“Don’t you dare touch me!”

Amelia’s hand shot out, slapping his away as if he were a piece of filth she couldn’t bear to be near.

Her eyes, cold and devoid of warmth, seemed to absorb every ounce of light around them, leaving only shadows in their wake.

With a calmness that belied the storm within, she stated, “Ethan, we’re done.”

She cast a fierce glare at the onlookers, who were watching the unfolding drama as if it were mere entertainment. Each step she took felt like a battle against the suffocating atmosphere in the lounge, her resolve steady as she walked away, one deliberate step at a time.

“Amelia!”

Ethan’s instinct was to pursue her, but Hannah clung to his arm with desperation, her sobs growing more intense.

“Ethan, please don’t! Let Ms. Harlow reflect on her actions. If you go after her now, she’ll think she’s done nothing wrong.”

One of Ethan’s friends, unable to resist, chimed in with a mocking tone, mimicking Amelia’s earlier words, “Ethan, we’re done.”

He clicked his tongue in irritation. “Come on, Ethan, go after her! If you don’t, she might actually file for divorce.”

Those words hit him like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing the flicker of regret that had begun to ignite within him.

He halted in his tracks.

His pride, meticulously crafted over years of being in control, would never allow him to bow his head to her in front of so many witnesses.

His expression darkened once more. “If she wants to leave, let her! Making a scene in a place like this—she’s gotten bold!”

He tugged at his tie in annoyance, his voice laced with coldness. “If the Everetts back out of the deal because of her, then I’ll be the one to initiate the divorce.”

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the second floor, Mason’s secretary dashed across the quiet terrace, her urgency palpable.

“Mr. Everett, we have a serious problem!”

Mason turned slightly, his demeanor calm yet alert. “What is it?”

She discovered a secluded bench deep within the garden and curled up on it like a small, wounded creature, quietly nursing her emotional wounds.

This was how she had always been.

From a young age, whenever she felt wronged, she would retreat to a hidden spot where no one could find her. She would cry, stew, or simply sit in silence until she could breathe again, then rise and pretend that nothing had ever happened.

But during her time with the Everetts, no matter where she sought solace, Mason would always find her. He acted as if he were indifferent to everything, yet somehow, he possessed an uncanny ability to locate her.

He would stand before her, looking down with those inscrutable eyes, and say with a half-smile, “Hiding again? I should really get you a custom turtle shell.”

He never offered comfort. He never spoke gentle words.

Yet, just by being there, he made her feel as if nothing could crush her spirit—not while he was by her side.

And if he couldn’t pull her from her sadness on his own, he would drag the warm-hearted Evan along until she finally managed to smile.

But now…

Amelia’s nose tingled with the sting of unshed tears. The taut string within her chest finally snapped.

From this moment forward, Mason would likely no longer come looking for her.

Between them now lay the Rowes, this fractured marriage, and a distance so foreign that even she found herself hesitant to approach it—a chasm that had formed the instant she had changed her last name.