Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 401: I didn’t have many options

[Ethan’s Condo]

"Here—have some water."

Ethan gently pressed the glass into Kathrine’s trembling hands before settling beside her on the couch. His movements were unhurried, careful, as though any sudden shift might cause her to shatter further.

He hadn’t expected her to show up at his door that night. Not unannounced. Not with eyes dulled by exhaustion and a silence so heavy it clung to her like a second skin.

The moment he’d opened the door and seen her standing there—arms wrapped tightly around herself, lips parted like she wanted to say something but couldn’t—instinct had taken over. He’d pulled her into his arms without a word.

And she hadn’t resisted.

She had melted into him, fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt as if he were the only thing anchoring her to the ground. Ethan hadn’t asked what happened. He hadn’t demanded explanations or filled the silence with assumptions. He had simply held her, steady and warm, letting her breathe against his chest until the tremors eased and her body finally stopped fighting itself.

Only then had he guided her inside.

Now she sat beside him, knees drawn slightly inward, staring at the glass of water as though it held answers she couldn’t reach.

"Why is everything so confusing, Ethan?" she whispered at last.

Her voice cracked—not loudly, not dramatically—but enough to make his chest tighten.

She had seen it all. The proof. The words. The unraveling truths that should have made everything clear. And yet, clarity felt farther away than ever.

Ethan studied her profile. The way her jaw was clenched too tightly. The faint crease between her brows that appeared only when she was struggling to keep control.

He frowned.

He knew what had happened—at least the surface of it. Roseline. Ester. The accusations, the denial, the tangled mess of motives and half-truths. But seeing Kathrine like this—questioning even what she had witnessed—made him realize how deeply it had shaken her.

"You think your mother is lying?" he asked quietly.

Kathrine turned to look at him, startled by the directness of the question. Her eyes were glossy, swimming with unshed tears she was clearly refusing to let fall.

"No," she said immediately. Too quickly. Then she faltered. "I don’t think she is. At least... I don’t want to think she is."

She let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the couch, pressing her head into the cushions.

"But then why would Ester keep denying it?" she continued, her voice rising slightly. "Why would she look me in the eye and swear she’s innocent when everything points to her? And why—" her voice broke "—why even after seeing everything, am I still unable to trust anything?"

The words tumbled out now, rushed and uneven.

"I feel like I’m losing my grip, Ethan. Like every truth I reach for slips through my fingers. One moment I’m certain, the next I’m doubting myself. I hate it."

That was when it happened.

The mask cracked.

Kathrine had always been the strong one—the composed one. The woman who stood tall in chaos, who absorbed blows without flinching, who hid her emotions behind logic and sharp control. She carried burdens silently, convincing everyone around her that she had it handled.

But here, on Ethan’s couch, that strength finally gave way.

Her shoulders began to shake. Silent at first. Controlled. Then her breath hitched, and the tears came—not dramatic sobs, but quiet, broken ones that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside her chest.

Ethan didn’t hesitate. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

He shifted closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into him. Kathrine resisted for half a second—out of habit more than anything—before she gave in, curling toward him as if her body had been waiting for permission to fall apart.

"I’m supposed to know better," she whispered against his chest. "I’m supposed to see through lies. I’m supposed to be strong."

"You are strong," Ethan said softly, his hand moving up and down her back in slow, grounding strokes. "But strength doesn’t mean you don’t feel lost. It means you keep standing even when you are."

She clutched his shirt again, tighter this time.

"I hate that I don’t know who to believe," she admitted. "I hate that my mind keeps replaying everything—every word, every look—like if I just think hard enough, it’ll all make sense."

Ethan rested his chin lightly against the top of her head. "Sometimes the truth doesn’t come all at once," he said. "Sometimes it comes in fragments, and we have to sit with the uncertainty longer than we want to."

She pulled back just enough to look at him. "And what if I choose wrong?"

His eyes softened. "Then you deal with it when it happens. You won’t break, Kathrine. I know you. You bend—but you don’t break."

Her lips trembled at that.

"I don’t feel unbreakable right now."

"That’s because you’re human," he replied gently. "And because this isn’t just about lies or proof. It’s about your family. About trust. About realizing the people you thought you understood might not be who you believed them to be."

She nodded slowly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"With you," she said quietly, "I don’t have to pretend, do I?"

"No," Ethan answered without hesitation. "You never do."

That seemed to undo her all over again. She leaned back into him, exhaustion seeping into her bones.

For the first time that night, her breathing began to even out.

Ethan held her there, saying nothing more, knowing that sometimes the greatest comfort wasn’t answers—but simply being the one place she didn’t have to be strong alone.

While everyone else was drowning in their own turmoil, Norma was having a wonderful evening.

The soft glow of warm lights reflected off the crystal glass in her hand as she watched the man standing before her. There was something almost satisfying about the sight—Collin, no longer the confident figure he once was, but a man pushed into a corner by circumstances of his own making.

"I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, Collin," Norma said smoothly, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

Her gaze was unflinching, calculating. She had always known he would come back to her. Men like Collin always did—especially when desperation stripped them of pride.

After fleeing the hospital, Collin had done exactly what she expected. He had reached out to her.

Norma.

The same woman who had once offered him help when no one else dared to.

Back then, he had brushed off the subtle hints in her words, the unspoken promises layered beneath her generosity. He had believed himself untouchable then—protected by power, influence he thought would never crumble.

Now, those alliances were ash.

Roseline had shown her true colors, and with that revelation came a brutal truth: Collin was on his own. Or at least, he would be—if he didn’t secure backup fast.

And there was only one person ruthless enough, resourceful enough, to stand beside him without questions.

Norma.

"I didn’t have many options," Collin said evenly, though his jaw tightened. "You know that."