Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 520: One drink will not do anything

After failing to reach Kathrine for hours, Ethan finally gave up trying to call her.

He stood near the door, his hand gripping the handle, his jaw tight with restrained worry. He had told himself not to overthink. Told himself she was probably busy, probably at work, probably just occupied with something that did not involve him.

But the silence from her end had unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

He had left her that morning.

Left her standing there after everything that had happened.

At the time, he had convinced himself he needed space. Needed distance to clear his thoughts, to regain control over the storm Marcus had stirred inside him.

But as the hours passed, regret followed him like a shadow.

And when he had finally reached for his phone, ready to hear her voice, ready to fix what he had broken, her phone had been off.

Every call unanswered.

Every message unread.

He had waited.

Then he had worried.

And now, he was done waiting.

He pulled the door open, ready to go look for her himself, ready to check the Bennett house, ready to make sure she was safe.

But the moment the door opened, he froze.

Kathrine stood there.

His breath caught.

Relief washed over him instantly, so strong it almost made his knees weak.

But just as quickly, it was replaced by anger.

"Why is your phone off?" he demanded. "And what took you so long?"

His voice was sharp, harsher than he intended, but he could not stop it. The fear he had buried had found its way out through anger.

Ethan was not someone who lost control over small things. He respected her independence. He knew she had her own life, her own responsibilities.

But this was different.

Because he had left her vulnerable.

Because Marcus had gone after her.

Because the thought of something happening to her while he was not there had terrified him.

Kathrine blinked, startled by the intensity in his eyes.

"I... I did not..." she began, fumbling slightly as she pulled her phone from her bag.

The screen remained dark.

She pressed the button.

Nothing.

Her eyes widened slightly.

"It ran out of battery," she said softly.

It was the truth.

But Ethan kept staring at her, his expression filled with emotions she could not fully read. It was as if he had been fighting something inside himself for hours, and seeing her standing here had finally broken whatever restraint he had left.

Before she could say anything else, he reached for her.

His arms wrapped around her suddenly, pulling her against him as the door slammed shut behind her.

Kathrine froze.

Her breath caught as Ethan buried his face in the crook of her neck, holding her tightly, as if letting go was no longer an option.

"I should not have left you like that," he whispered.

His voice was low, filled with regret.

The guilt had followed him all day. The memory of her standing there, of the hurt he had seen in her eyes, had refused to leave him.

Because none of this was her fault.

Marcus had tried to intimidate her.

Tried to use her.

And still, she had stood her ground.

Still, she had not walked away from him.

Kathrine’s heart softened.

Slowly, she lifted her hands, placing them gently on his back, her fingers moving in quiet comfort.

"You did not leave me," she said softly. "I gave you the space you needed."

She did not blame him.

She never had.

Ethan pulled back slightly, his hands still holding her, his eyes searching hers.

They looked at him the same way they always did.

Warm.

Steady.

Unwavering.

And it calmed him.

"Where did you go?" he asked quietly. "And why was your phone off?"

His arms tightened around her again, unwilling to create distance between them.

Kathrine hesitated.

Her smile faltered, just slightly.

She reached for his hand, gently guiding him further inside the house. He followed without resistance, his eyes never leaving her.

They sat down on the couch.

Ethan watched her closely, his brows furrowed with concern.

Kathrine tried to smile, but it did not fully reach her eyes.

"I do not think you should know," she said softly.

Ethan frowned.

"What do you mean I should not know?" he asked. "Is it about some secret hideout where I am not allowed?"

He tried to make it sound like a joke.

But the tension in his voice betrayed him.

Because he already knew.

He knew she had not been at work.

He knew she would never go back to the Bennett house.

Which left only one possibility.

His expression hardened slightly.

"Kathrine," he said quietly, his voice losing its teasing edge, "where were you?"

The question lingered between them.

Heavy and unavoidable.

And for the first time since she had arrived, Kathrine did not have an answer she could easily give.

***

[Rosewood House]

After cutting the cake and finishing their dinner, Anna and Daniel sat together in the quiet comfort of the living room.

The celebration had been simple, intimate, and far more meaningful than any grand party she had ever attended.

Soft lights filled the room, casting a warm glow around them. The remains of their evening were scattered across the table. Empty plates. Smudges of cream. The evidence of laughter and shared moments.

Daniel leaned back slightly, a glass of champagne resting comfortably in his hand. He swirled it slowly, watching the bubbles rise to the surface before taking a small sip.

Across from him, Anna sat with her own glass.

Juice.

She stared at it.

Her expression solemn.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem, but she made no effort to drink it.

Daniel noticed.

He had noticed long before she said anything.

"You know I am not changing my mind, dear wife," he said calmly, taking another sip of his champagne.

Anna looked up at him immediately.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

It had been several minutes since she had stopped pretending. Several minutes since she had been staring at him, silently questioning his decision.

It was her birthday.

And yet, he had refused to let her drink even a single sip.

Instead, he had handed her juice.

Juice.

"Daniel," she said, setting the glass down on the table with quiet frustration, "one drink will not do anything."

Her voice was soft, but the disappointment in it was clear.