The Sweetest Escape: Leaving My Toxic Ex Behind

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After our divorce, I moved thirty-three times.

To win me back, my ex-husband slit his wrists, jumped into a river, swallowed sleeping pills, and even slit his throat right in front of me.

In the end, I gave in.

We got remarried. For the past three years, he seemed like a changed man. He changed all his passwords to my birthday. He handed over his paychecks. He shared his real-time location with me twenty-four hours a day, taking meticulous care of me and our daughter.

Until late last night, when I glanced at his iPad and noticed he had forgotten to log out of his burner Snapchat account. A message from Chloe popped up:

"Did you still not touch her tonight? Ugh, I missed out on another live show."

He replied almost instantly: "I haven't touched her since she got pregnant."

"Stop watching the security feed and go to sleep. If you stay up late again, you'll feel terrible tomorrow."

It turned out the camera in our bedroom was never meant for monitoring our baby. It was to prove his "innocence" to her.

This time, I will not let him drag me down again.

From the bedroom, I could hear Ethan's soft, patient voice singing a lullaby to our daughter, Lily.

But I felt ice cold.

The thought of me breastfeeding Lily in that room every day, completely exposed and off-guard, while the person I hated most watched the entire thing... It made me want to throw up.

Hearing me gasp, Ethan rushed out of the room.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling sick again?" He frowned, concern written all over his face.

I calmly locked the iPad screen.

"My stomach hurts a bit. Can you get me a glass of water?"

He did so immediately, carefully holding the glass to my lips.

"Better?"

When I didn't answer, he gently touched my cheek, then my forehead.

"Still feeling bad? Do you want to go to the hospital?"

I looked into his eyes, searching for the warmth that now felt so fake. I spoke softly.

"Ethan, are you still in touch with Chloe?"

His eyes flickered. "Of course not. We haven't spoken in years. Why would you ask that?"

Seeing my silence, his eyes welled up with tears. He dropped to his knees, his voice cracking with desperation.

"I promised you I'd cut her off, and I meant it. Clara, please don't leave me again."

"Did I do something wrong? Did I make you doubt me?"

I dug my nails into my palms, fighting back the tremors racking my body. I forced a tiny smile.

"It's nothing. I just suddenly thought of the past."

He let out a long sigh of relief, taking my hand and pulling me back toward the bedroom.

"You always overthink when you can't sleep," he teased gently.

We lay down, and he reached out to pull me into his arms, as he always did.

My body reacted before my brain could. I flinched away, turning my back to him. "It's too hot."

He paused for a second, then picked up the remote and lowered the AC by two degrees.

"Clara, I've changed. You can't keep punishing me based on baseless suspicions."

I said nothing.

A long time passed. He probably thought I had fallen asleep.

In the darkness, the glow of a phone screen lit up.

The sound of fast typing was incredibly sharp in the quiet room.

It was quick, accompanied by a faint, amused chuckle under his breath.

I couldn't sleep.

Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, soaking the pillow.

I stayed awake all night.

The next morning, before he left for work, he kissed my forehead.

"Don't let your mind wander while you're home alone. Call me immediately if you feel sick."

The moment the front door clicked shut, I bolted to the bathroom and threw up.

A few minutes later.

I turned on the faucet, washing the sour taste from my mouth.

Walking back to the living room, I opened the iPad.

The chat logs between him and Chloe showed a level of intimacy that proved they had never actually stopped talking.

It was just like three years ago, when I caught them pressed against the floor-to-ceiling window of a hotel room, completely tangled up in each other.

I bit my tongue hard, forcing my eyes open to read every single word.

I watched as the man who refused to touch me after I got pregnant under the guise of "safety" discussed buying kinky sex toys with Chloe.

I watched as the man who refused to let me accompany him on business trips because he "didn't want to get distracted" took Chloe to out-of-town conferences, treating her to luxurious vacations.

When Chloe asked him, "Who do you like better, Clara or me?" he replied instantly:

"Her body is ruined after the pregnancy. She doesn't compare to you."

Just one sentence.

It completely destroyed me, the woman who had let her guard down to remarry him and bear his child. I was nailed to a cross of absolute humiliation.

My tears splashed onto the screen, blurring the words.

I opened my phone, pulled back my resignation letter, and submitted an application for an overseas transfer.

My manager, Marcus, called me almost immediately.

"Clara, I'm thrilled you want to come back. But a transfer to New York? Are you sure?"

"This is a highly confidential project. Even though you can bring your family, you won't be allowed to have any contact with the outside world for at least three years."

I gently stroked Lily's sleeping face. "I'm sure."

This time, I would take my baby and disappear. Ethan would never find me.

Just as I hung up, another message from Chloe popped up on Ethan's iPad.

"Ethan, you promised me. Once Clara gives birth to our baby, you'll divorce her. When is that happening?"

"Lily isn't weaned yet. We have to wait until she's at least two."

"Then promise me you won't touch Clara again. Now that the baby is here, she's off-limits."

My hands and feet went completely numb as I stared at the screen.

So, the only reason he begged me to remarry him was because Chloe wanted a baby.

But she was terrified of the pain, and she didn't want stretch marks.

So he suggested that I should be the one to carry it.

"Clara is family, we can trust her. Once the baby is born, I'll divorce her and take full custody."

I suddenly burst out laughing.

But as I laughed, my throat felt like it was being choked.

For the past three years, everyone said Ethan loved me to death.

He would drive four hours in the middle of the night just to get me the specific cinnamon rolls I suddenly craved.

When I ran a high fever, he didn't sleep for three days and three nights. Once my fever broke, he collapsed from exhaustion.

During my pregnancy, when my legs cramped, he massaged them every single night before bed, only sneaking out to the living room to put ice packs on his sore hands after I fell asleep.

It turned out all this devotion was just the compensation he paid me for being his surrogate.

How pathetic. I had actually felt so bad for him balancing work and taking care of us that I planned to resign and become a full-time stay-at-home mom.

As I sat in a daze, another notification chimed.

"I saw you gave her a necklace in the bedroom the other day. Didn't you say you bought that for me?"

"If you want it, I'll buy you another one."

She seemed to get upset.

"That's not the point! Why did you give her something you promised me?"

"And last time, you said you'd watch a movie with me, but you stood me up because her breasts were engorged. You ran across the city to find her a lactation consultant. I waited until the movie ended, and you never showed."

"Are you being too nice to her?"

He remained silent for a long time before replying.

"Chloe, she is still your sister, not your enemy. We did her wrong. I'm just trying to make up for it."

Reading his words, I only felt a deep sense of irony.

Chloe was supposed to be my closest family.

Our parents passed away early, and I had taken on the burden of raising her from a very young age, which made me mature and reserved.

Ethan used to say he loved my quiet elegance, but after meeting Chloe, he changed his tune, saying girls should be lively and free-spirited.

I wasn't blind to his special treatment of her.

But when I asked him to keep his distance from my sister, he only laughed and ruffled my hair.

He told me not to be petty, asking why I was jealous of my own sister.

The things that followed were so dramatic that I hadn't let myself think about them for a long time.

They got closer and closer, eventually sharing the same straw.

When we first got married, he even chose a wedding ring style that she liked.

On our first anniversary, I walked in on them wrapped around each other. Chloe only stared back at me with a mocking look in her eyes.

When I screamed and demanded to know why, her voice was quiet and cold: "You're my sister. You're supposed to share everything with me."

And Ethan? He shielded her behind his back, remaining completely silent.

I couldn't handle being betrayed by the two most important people in my life.

I divorced him and blocked them both.

I thought we would never cross paths again.

But he went to such extreme lengths to get me back that my heart softened.

Thinking about it now, I laughed like a fool, my tears falling uncontrollably.

I was so stupid. Stupid enough to believe he had repented. Stupid enough to believe he actually cared.

But once you peeled back the mask, the core was completely rotten.

Thankfully, there was still time.

After deciding to leave, I began clearing out my things.

This house was decorated according to my taste. I chose most of the furniture.

Ethan had said he wanted me to feel comfortable, to feel happy the moment I opened my eyes and came home.

I chose the dusty blue curtains.

I sat on dozens of sofas before choosing this one.

The paintings on the wall, I had only glanced at them once, and he immediately bought them.

Now that I thought about it, this wasn't a home. It was a golden cage tailored specifically for me.

The things I once loved now made me sick to look at.

I stuffed them all into black trash bags.

After clearing the clutter, I pulled out my suitcase and packed only the essentials.

Ethan walked in, his brow furrowing as he looked around.

"Why does the house look so empty?"

I didn't look up, continuing to pack. "Just getting rid of old things. I'm planning to buy some new stuff."

"As long as it makes you happy. Let me know if you need money." His eyes drifted to my empty vanity. "I'm going on a business trip in a few days. Do you want me to bring you anything from the duty-free shop?"

"No, thank you."

"Didn't you say you wanted that designer face cream last time?"

I gently patted Lily's back to soothe her to sleep, my voice flat. "I don't really want it anymore."

The things, the people, I didn't want any of it anymore.

Before the overseas transfer, accompanying family members also needed a physical exam.

After taking Lily for her checkup, I was waiting for the results when I saw Ethan and Chloe standing near the fever clinic.

She was speaking in a whiny, nasal voice. "It's all your fault. You kept the car AC so high yesterday, and now I have a fever."

He pinched her nose playfully. "Who was the one begging to do it in the car? Take this as a lesson. Don't do it again."

The loudspeaker called his name, and his phone rang at the same time, so he didn't go in with her.

He hung up, turned around, and saw me standing there quietly.

The moment our eyes met, he froze. Then, he quickly walked over.

"Clara? What are you doing here? Is Lily sick?"

He reached out to touch Lily's face, but I took a step back, my voice calm and even.

"Company physicals. I brought Lily along."

"Oh," he glanced toward the clinic room, offering an unprompted explanation. "A client of mine got sick. I came to accompany them."

I didn't ask what kind of client was so important that the CEO himself had to accompany them to a fever clinic.

"I'm heading home first."

Before he could answer, I turned and walked away without looking back.

I didn't see the complicated look in his eyes behind me.

That evening, he came home much earlier than usual.

I was sitting in the living room watching TV, ignoring him.

He walked over, holding a cake box.

"Clara, didn't you say you wanted to try the cake from this bakery? I took a detour after work to get it for you."

I glanced at the logo.

I didn't recognize the brand.

But I had seen it on Chloe's Instagram page a couple of days ago.

The bakery was in the suburbs, miles away from his office.

I smiled faintly.

When you play with fire, you're bound to get burned eventually.

Seeing me smile, he thought I was happy.

"Go ahead, try it." He handed me a spoon.

I didn't take it, my smile vanishing. "Ethan, I never said I wanted to eat this."

He froze. I rarely called him by his first name.

"I... I must have misremembered," his breathing turned shallow, and he leaned in to kiss me. "Don't be mad. Tell me what you want, and I'll go buy it right now."

I pulled away. "Ethan, let's get a divorce."

The color drained from his face.

"Just because of a cake?"

I didn't feel like making up an excuse. I stood up. "Sure. Let's go with that."

"Where would you even go if we divorced?" Seeing me walk toward the bedroom, he snapped, his words turning sharp and desperate. "Who would want a divorced woman with a kid?"

My footsteps halted.

The air in the room grew suffocatingly quiet.

"I didn't mean that..." his voice panicked. "I just... I can't accept you wanting a divorce."

His eyes darted to the fruit knife on the table. He grabbed it, pressing the blade against his wrist.

"You know how hard it was for me to get you back. You can't break your promise."

I stared at his bloodshot eyes. I wanted to tell him that he was the one who broke his promise.

But I realized it was pointless.

In the silence, the blade pierced his skin, and bright red blood began to ooze out.

This old trick might have made my heart ache in the past.

But now, I felt nothing but numbness.

Since a mutual divorce agreement was out of the question, I would have to take him to court.

I took a deep breath and forced a relaxed smile.

"I was just kidding. I was just a little upset because I saw you with another woman at the hospital today."

"I told you, she was just a client," he let out a huge sigh of relief, dropping the knife. "What's wrong with you lately? You're always overthinking."

"Probably just postpartum mood swings," I said quietly, turning to walk into the guest bedroom.

"Lily and I will sleep in here for a while. I need some space to clear my head."

I didn't push further, and he didn't say another word.

Over the next few days, we tacitly avoided the topic, both of us busy with our own things.

He was busy preparing for his business trip, and I was busy preparing to disappear.

Before he left, he slid a heavy gold bracelet onto my wrist.

"Wait for me to get back. I have something important to tell you."

It was a Vance family heirloom. I had seen it in his family's vault registry in his study.

He had never offered it to me before, and I didn't know why he was giving it to me now.

But I didn't care.

On my phone, Chloe's Instagram was updating constantly.

Her latest post was a photo of the sunset over the Seine.

In the corner of the frame sat a half-empty coffee cup, and the edge of a sleeve was visible.

The agate cufflink on the sleeve was the birthday gift I had given Ethan last year.

Her caption read:

"Twilight in Paris is so long, perfect for two people to walk slowly. I never want this business trip with you to end."

The posts before that were just as lively.

One day she was taking a selfie with a crepe in front of the Louvre, the next she was posing under the Eiffel Tower at night.

He made frequent appearances in her photos, tying her shoelaces, holding an umbrella for her.

I screenshotted every single one of them.

Chloe seemed very happy.

No one would ever guess that she was actually an abandoned baby left near a bridge.

My parents had adopted her and kept the secret until the day they died.

I wondered how she would react when she finally found out the truth about her birth.

On the day of my flight to New York, I left a thick folder and a signed divorce agreement on the coffee table.

Next to them sat the heirloom bracelet and my wedding ring.

I left a note: "I am taking an overseas transfer for at least three years. Review the agreement. If you agree, sign it and mail it to my company's legal department. If not, we will proceed with a contested divorce after two years of separation."