No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 140

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**

Amelia felt a sudden rigidity grip her body, as if time itself had paused. She instinctively lowered her head, her voice barely a whisper, “Fiona, I haven’t forgotten.”

Her thoughts spiraled back to a harrowing moment from years past, a memory that had etched itself into her very soul.

Flames danced wildly, reaching for the heavens, while thick, suffocating smoke enveloped her. The ancient wooden beams creaked ominously, surrendering to the inferno, and the air was filled with the piercing screams of terror that echoed around her.

Trapped in that fiery hell, she had been certain that death was imminent. A paralyzing fear gripped her, threatening to consume her entirely.

Then, in a moment that felt surreal, Ethan burst through the fiery doorway. He charged through the chaos, a figure of bravery amidst the flames and smoke, rushing directly towards her.

With a fierce determination, he seized her and enveloped her in his arms, using his own body as a shield while repeatedly calling her name, his voice a lifeline in the chaos.

When she finally emerged from that nightmare, her eyes widened in horror as she noticed the burn marks on the arm that had wrapped protectively around her—his skin raw and torn, evidence of the sparks that had fallen from above.

In that moment, as he risked his own life to save hers, she clung to the notion that he truly cared for her. Throughout their six years of marriage, through countless lonely nights spent waiting for his return, and during the moments he snapped at her with phrases like, “Can’t you just be mature for once?”—she used that singular act of heroism as a reason to endure just a little longer.

She convinced herself that his actions were rooted in love, that he wouldn’t have risked everything if he didn’t truly care.

That belief had served as a potent painkiller, numbing her to the reality of a marriage that had long since withered away.

Yet now, that painkiller had lost its potency.

She finally arrived at a painful realization she had been too blind to see before—being saved does not equate to being loved. Sometimes, it stems from a sense of duty, an instinctive reaction, or the innate heroism that surfaces in a crisis. Love was not a prerequisite for such actions.

Perhaps, as Fiona had pointed out, Ethan truly was slow to grasp the nuances of emotions.

But with Hannah, he was a different man entirely. He seemed to possess an uncanny ability to sense her feelings immediately, responding with a tenderness that left Amelia feeling hollow.

A bitter sigh escaped her lips, a reflection of the turmoil in her heart.

Maybe that was the stark contrast between love and indifference.

After Fiona departed, Amelia found herself rooted to the couch, motionless. The cold moonlight streamed through the window, casting her shadow across the floor like a silent witness to her despair.

Sleep eluded her that night.

Though her body craved rest, her mind was a cacophony of thoughts, every sound amplified in the stillness.

The gentle ticking of the wall clock felt like a relentless drumbeat. The wind rustled through the trees outside, its whispers a haunting melody. The steady, heavy rhythm of her own heart echoed within her chest, a reminder of her solitude.

In the early hours, around two or three in the morning, a faint noise broke the silence outside her room.

So, she remained silent. She wouldn’t expose him. Instead, she returned to bed, staring at the ceiling, her eyes wide open.

In the enveloping darkness, her thoughts had never been clearer.

She found herself pondering what Mason might be up to at this hour.

Was he asleep, or was he still buried in work, laboring over some project?

He was aware that she had the divorce papers in hand, yet she still had to maintain the facade of a devoted wife under the Rowe roof. Would he mock her for not being resolute enough?

Amelia raised her hand, counting her fingers in the air.

It was okay. Only 19 days remained.

In just 19 days, she would reclaim her freedom. Free from this absurd marriage that had long since lost its meaning.

As dawn approached, before the sun could rise, Ethan crept back into the house like a shadow.

He likely believed he had evaded detection. After a hasty shower, he donned a sharply tailored suit, and when he descended the stairs, he transformed into the impeccable image of the Rowe Group’s ideal representative once more.

Yet the atmosphere around the breakfast table felt distinctly off.