She moved toward me, as she had done countless times before when ending an argument, trying to embrace me.
I stepped back, slipped off my wedding ring, and held it out to her.
“Claire Miller, I’m tired. Let’s get a divorce. This time, I mean it.”
The grievance on Claire Miller’s face vanished instantly, replaced by frustration and irritation.
“Ethan Brooks, I’ve already apologized—what more do you want?”
“I only treat Ryan like a younger brother. To get divorced over such a ridiculous misunderstanding? If this spreads, the Miller Group will become a laughingstock.”
“Misunderstanding?” I sneered.
I yanked a pair of men’s briefs from under the pillow and tossed them in front of Claire.
“Is this what you call a misunderstanding?”
Claire’s expression turned panicked. Her lips trembled as she tried to explain, but no words came out.
Suppressing the fury boiling inside me, I spoke coldly:
“I’d really like to hear your explanation. Your husband is away on a business trip, and you let another man sleep in our master bedroom?”
“Claire, tell me—what kind of misunderstanding is this?”