Chapter 1: Divorce Papers and Digital Ghosts

Three years married to an incubus husband, and tonight, I finally slid the divorce papers across the table.

The words tasted strange and absolute, like the echo of a funeral bell. My pen hovered over the signature line, my heart hammering in my chest. Out of nowhere, a cascade of floating comments flickered across my vision—like a chaotic Twitter feed hijacking my mind:

[Finally divorced! The side character and the male lead have so many emotional scenes. Is the clueless author secretly the side character’s real mom or what?]

[The naive female lead’s countdown to redeeming the incubus boss starts now.]

[The male lead loved her for ten years. The side character is dumb, mean, and blind. Good thing she gets a miserable ending.]

[Side character, get lost. Know your place as cannon fodder.]

[Honestly? I live for this toxic ship. Sorry, not sorry.]

[Fans of the side character above, don’t eat glue. The incubus boss and the delicate female lead are the real couple.]

My hand froze, pen suspended in mid-air, just above the line that would end it all. The silence pressed in—too thick, too expectant. I glanced up at Ethan Caldwell, sitting across from me: impossibly composed, though his ears had flushed a deep, telltale red. He tapped his fingers against his knee, a nervous habit I’d never seen before.

My lips parted, the words catching on the edge of a sob I refused to let out. "Ethan Caldwell, I don’t want to get divorced."

1

"Ethan, I don’t want to get divorced."

The moment the words left my mouth, the bullet comments on my invisible feed exploded, scrolling so fast my brain could barely keep up.

[Am I hallucinating from excitement? Did Morgan Hayes just say she doesn’t want to get divorced?]

[She said she doesn’t want to get divorced? Seriously, what’s wrong with Morgan? Does she think she can just stay married if she wants? What about the incubus boss? Just wait, the male lead will definitely divorce her.]

[I can’t even with this. Who actually likes Morgan?]

[Enough, am I the only one who feels bad for the male lead? He’s in rut and super talented. Three years, and he never touched the side character.]

I looked at Ethan, noticing for the first time that he’d crossed his legs—rare for him. His ears, already pink, had deepened to a burning red. If he hadn’t been so controlled, you’d think he’d run a marathon in August.

In rut? That phrase stuck in my head—a wild, bizarre idea. Ethan had a heat cycle? How had I missed that in three years of sharing a home, a bed, and a last name?

Finally, the noble, distant man spoke, voice as cold and crisp as winter air. He hesitated, jaw tightening, before the words slipped out: "As you wish."

He turned and disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower running echoed off subway tiles, steam curling around the frosted glass. His cologne still lingered, mixing with the scent of soap and heat. The bullet comments went haywire, like someone had just dropped a bomb in a TikTok livestream.

[The male lead is so handsome and amazing. Why does Morgan get to marry him?]

[Putting aside being a fan, Morgan is beautiful. It’s normal for the male lead to be attracted to her.]

[Attracted? Please. At most, Morgan was just a youthful obsession. The incubus loves Sydney baby the most.]

[Hate ship fans just want to see drama, not love (panting emoji).]

[Big Yellow Girl, log off. Touch some grass.]

[Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, I’m new here—what’s the hate ship? (dead serious emoji)]

[It’s just the ship name for the male lead and the side character, duh.]

[Help, which Big Yellow Girl came up with that? I can’t even say it out loud (cringe emoji).]

I winced, picturing that ridiculous ship name getting thrown around in a Reddit thread or BookTok rant. Only the messiest corners of the internet could love a term like that.

Before I could lose myself in the comments, Ethan stepped out of the bathroom. He wore only a towel slung low on his hips, water beading on his skin, his abs glistening. He looked like he’d stepped off a Calvin Klein billboard in Times Square—broad chest, chiseled abs, classic, almost unreal good looks, and that body was even more devastating up close.

"Hey, I tossed your old underwear. They needed to go. I’ll pick up new ones tomorrow."

His voice was low and a little rough, as if he’d just woken from a dream. In one hand, he clutched a tied-up trash bag—a jarringly normal detail in a surreal moment.

He didn’t wait for a reply, as if talking about my underwear was just another day at the office. "I’ll take out the trash."

If there was ever a time to catch him hiding something, it was now. My heart thudded with a weird hope as I reached for the bag, half-expecting to find some secret or evidence I’d missed.

But Ethan’s grip tightened, knuckles white. For a second, his eyes flicked up—vulnerable, almost scared—before he masked it with a shrug. "No, it’s dirty… The trash bag’s dirty. I’ll throw it out."

He turned and strode toward the door, muscles tense beneath the towel, refusing to meet my gaze. The bullet comments spiked again, like a Discord server in meltdown at 2 a.m.

[The male lead’s scared to death. If the side character discovers his little secret, she’ll only hate him more.]

[He’s so awkward. If he wasn’t so stubborn, they’d have two kids by now.]

[Not a hate shipper, but I’ve noticed the male lead only goes into rut for the side character, not the female lead. Again, not a hate shipper.]

[Yeah, sure, you’re totally not a hate shipper.]

[Lol, how scared is the commenter above of the female lead’s fans? I’ll say it: they’re like rabid dogs, always hyping how much the male lead loves the female lead and treating that green tea airhead as a treasure. Female lead fans, your homework is to prep for middle school.]

[Username “rabid dog” better not come for me. By the way, I’ve already screenshotted this and sent it to the group chat. Don’t close your DMs—be ready for our judgment.]

[Ah, did the male lead and side character do the hate scene yet?]

[Big Yellow Girl, log off. Touch some grass.]

[……]