No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 22

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom 22**

**Chapter 22: Hard Time**

The moment Hannah’s lips formed Jack’s name, her composure shattered, unleashing a torrent of sobs that echoed around them. “I didn’t mean to waste money. I just… I just miss him so much…” Her voice quivered, each word laced with a deep, aching longing that seemed to envelop the air around them.

At that very moment, a burst of energy entered the scene as Isla came dashing towards Ethan, her excitement palpable. She twirled in her brand-new princess dress, the fabric shimmering under the light. “Ethan, look! Do you like my new dress? Thank you for buying me such a pretty one!” Her face radiated pure joy, a stark contrast to the sorrow etched on Hannah’s features.

Ethan glanced between the two women, his heart torn. The sight of Hannah, her cheeks stained with tears, and Isla, her bright smile shining like a beacon, made it nearly impossible for any decent man to harbor anger. Memories of Jack flooded back into Ethan’s mind, softening the fire of frustration that had been raging within him.

“If you like it, then buy it,” he said, his tone weary but resigned. “Just… be more careful next time.” His words hung in the air, a reminder of the delicate balance of emotions swirling around them.

With a quick motion, Hannah wiped her tears away, her expression shifting from despair to gratitude. “Thank you, Ethan. You’re really so kind…” The sincerity of her words struck a chord within him.

Just then, Ethan’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment. It was Kevin. “Mr. Rowe, I found the address of Ms. Harlow’s new studio. I’ll text it to you right away.”

Ethan’s eyes brightened with anticipation. “Great. Send it over,” he replied, a flicker of hope igniting within him.

The following morning, Ethan rose with renewed determination, ready to confront Amelia. But just as he was about to step out the door, Hannah appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her arms laden with two shopping bags bursting with clothes.

“Ethan, you’re going to see Ms. Harlow, right? I want to go with you,” she declared, her enthusiasm palpable.

Ethan raised an eyebrow, confusion knitting his brow. “Why do you want to come?” he asked, genuinely puzzled.

Hannah lifted the bags, her voice softening as she spoke. “I ran into Ms. Harlow at the mall yesterday. She looked like she really wanted to buy something, but I think her card didn’t work. She seemed pretty upset.”

She sighed, her eyes meeting Ethan’s with a pleading softness. “I bought so many new clothes yesterday. I’ll never wear them all. So I picked two outfits she might like. I want to bring them to her as a kind gesture. And maybe I can help you talk to her, you know? Help calm things down so she won’t stay mad at you.”

Ethan felt a wave of discomfort wash over him. The thought of Hannah, after spending extravagantly, now wanting to present these clothes as a “gift” to Amelia felt… complicated.

After a moment of contemplation, he had to admit that perhaps Hannah wasn’t entirely off the mark. Amelia’s anger stemmed from the incident with Isla’s allergy, and since Hannah was directly involved, maybe she could indeed help mend the rift.

“Where’s Isla?” he finally asked, the concern for his daughter creeping into his thoughts.

After exchanging a few more friendly words, he left with a satisfied smile, the door closing softly behind him.

Yet, the warm, easy atmosphere felt entirely different through Ethan’s eyes. His car was parked not far away, and as he watched Amelia smile so gently at the older man, something sharp and unpleasant twisted in his chest, igniting a flicker of jealousy he hadn’t anticipated.

Just as Oliver rounded the corner and disappeared from view, Amelia turned to re-enter her studio.

A cold voice sliced through the air, halting her in her tracks. “Who was that man who just left?”

Amelia froze, her heart racing. Slowly, she turned around to find Ethan standing there, his expression dark and stormy, with Hannah beside him, looking hopeful yet anxious.

She frowned, ready to explain that Oliver was merely a client, but before she could utter a word, Hannah stepped forward, her demeanor softening.

Hannah let out a gentle sigh, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ms. Harlow… I know you’re upset with Ethan, and maybe things are tight for you right now… but… but you can’t do something like this. If you’re having a hard time, you can talk to Ethan. He’ll help you.”

The tension hung thick in the air, each word a delicate thread weaving through the complex emotions swirling around them.