No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 56

**TITLE: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**
**Chapter 56: The Last Thread Breaks**

Absurd. Ridiculous.

Amelia couldn’t help but feel a bitter laugh bubbling up inside her.

Once upon a time, a single word from Ethan could send her heart racing, igniting a fire within her that felt impossible to extinguish.

But now? Now, she was met with a void. A chilling silence enveloped her, deeper and more cutting than any heated argument could ever be. There was no pain, no anger—just an emptiness that echoed through her.

Ethan, lost in his concern for Hannah, finally pulled himself back to the present.

As he turned to face Amelia, his heart sank at the sight of her blank expression. Something within him tightened, a knot of unease forming in his chest.

Perhaps it dawned on him that holding Hannah’s hand in front of his wife was inappropriate. He quickly released his grip, but the moment of embarrassment morphed into the familiar arrogance he wore like a shield.

“Amelia, can’t you learn something from Hannah?” he snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

“When things go awry, you should focus on how to resolve them, not wallow in jealousy like some bitter woman convinced the universe is conspiring against her!”

He was oblivious to the subtle shift in her demeanor, the way her eyes darkened with hurt. Instead, he assumed that since the Stellar Attire project was still on track, Amelia must feel irreplaceable due to her design prowess.

With a dramatic sigh, he feigned magnanimity, softening his tone in a way that felt condescending. “Let’s just wrap this up. Go back and prepare a new set of design drafts. Deliver them to Stellar Attire at your earliest convenience.”

But before he could finish, a timid voice broke through the tension.

“Ethan… that might not be necessary.”

Both Ethan and Amelia turned to Hannah, curiosity piqued.

Just then, Ethan’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. It was Stellar Attire.

He answered, perhaps hoping Amelia would overhear the client’s disappointment and grasp the gravity of the situation.

As the call connected, Edison Bardot’s enthusiastic voice filled the room, an unexpected ray of light in the oppressive atmosphere.

“Mr. Rowe, I apologize for disturbing you at this hour.”

“Not at all, Ms. Bardot,” Ethan replied, his voice polite yet strained.

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