Chapter 2

I bit down hard and laughed.

This man's earlier concern, his kneeling — it was all for this moment.

So I wouldn't make trouble for the woman who held his heart.

How could I possibly listen?

Brushing past him, I grabbed his phone from the table. The lock screen showed that woman's shy, smiling face.

The password was still my birthday.

But the pinned chat on his SnapChat had been changed to this woman named Chloe.

Their chat thread was incredibly active.

He replied to her every message instantly.

But my chat with him was a wasteland.

The last message was from half a month ago.

"Coming home for dinner?"

He hadn't replied.

The next day after work, he'd sent a dismissive: "Too busy, forgot."

I knew he had a national-level project underway, so I'd been understanding, not making a fuss, racking my brains to make him nutritious, healthy meals.

But I never imagined that all the care I gave him, he'd spent on someone else.

Even his "busy" was just being busy screwing someone in the lab.

[Your wife hasn't seen you in half a month. Are you coming home tonight?]

[Bored with her. Not going.]

The hand gripping the phone trembled slightly.

Twenty years. The best years of a woman's youth. I'd spent it all on this man, and all I got in return was "bored with her."

Those words blurred through my tears into an indistinct mess.

I bit my lip, forcing my eyes open wide, reading word by word.

Reading how this rigid man who'd lecture about physics even during sex had dressed up in costumes to play elaborate roleplay games for this woman.

Reading how at the science award ceremony I'd begged him multiple times to take me to — events he'd always refused — he'd brought her instead, letting her accept congratulations in my place, under my name.

Reading how when Chloe asked him "Do you like your wife or me?" he'd replied without hesitation:

"She's old now, loose down there too. Can't compare to you."

Turning the entire first half of my life — spent devotedly helping him ascend to greatness — into one massive joke.

My eyes burned. I returned the phone to Ethan.

The more I read, the more I felt like a complete fool.

"Fiona, I'm a man. I have needs and desires. Things with her got out of hand, we couldn't help ourselves."

"I hope you can understand and not make a scene. Let's just end this here, okay?"

His voice remained gentle.

Even his lies sounded so convincing.

But I stubbornly wanted answers. I pointed at the pinned profile picture, my voice hoarse:

"Of all people to cheat with, why her? Why the woman who killed your parents?"

I raised my voice, grabbing his collar, my words tearing through the air:

"Have you forgotten how your parents could have lived, but she ran them over again and again, grinding them into pulp?"

Ethan turned his face away. After a long pause, he finally spoke:

"She was young then. It wasn't intentional."

"And my parents shouldn't have been out that late at night. They brought it on themselves..."

I carefully savored those two sentences.

And couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

Laughing at my own blindness.

When Ethan's parents died and his relatives refused to take him in, Chloe — afraid he'd press charges — had systematically driven him insane.

She'd made him crawl on the ground and drink urine, bark like a dog, spreading videos of it everywhere.

His miserable state was burned into my memory for twenty years. Even after he recovered, I'd kept track of Chloe's whereabouts.

But I never anticipated this.

Not only had Ethan forgiven his parents' murderer first, he'd climbed into bed with her.

During every night he'd lied about working late, he'd tried every position with her.

He said they couldn't help themselves, overcome by passion.

So what were my meddling twenty years worth?

Thunder rumbled as his phone rang simultaneously.

Ethan didn't even glance at me before answering.

"Ethan, my thesis data got rejected. If I miss tonight's deadline, my entire project is ruined..."

Chloe's voice was sweet and cloying.

The man's throat bobbed as he immediately rushed to the entrance to change shoes, not forgetting to coo at her:

"Don't worry, baby. I'm coming right now."

He responded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, as if I didn't exist.

I whirled around and blocked his path: "You're not going!"

Ethan frowned, irritation rising in his eyes.

"Fiona! This is about Chloe's future. She's not useless like you. Get out of my way!"

The word "useless" nailed me in place. I forgot how to react.

Ethan's patience completely evaporated. He grabbed my collar and shoved me aside.

My wound struck the corner of a cabinet. I hissed in pain.

Instinctively, I called out: "Ethan, it hurts..."

The only response was the earth-shattering slam of the door.