Chapter 3

I was about to throw out every matching thing we owned when I heard Ethan's key in the door.

Seeing me still home, the tension visibly drained from his shoulders.

He walked over, took my hand, and smiled gently.

"Thank you, my Emma, for being so understanding."

"I loved the wine tonight. Olivia loved it too."

When I didn't respond, he patiently explained.

"Olivia—you know how it is. We grew up together. Just friends. You're not jealous, are you?"

"My Emma is so good. I know you wouldn't be jealous."

With that, he leaned in and kissed my forehead.

Ethan was always different when he was drunk.

In that state, he became like an obedient puppy.

"Ethan, tell me you love me."

"Emma, I love you."

"Ethan, tell me you miss me."

"Emma, I miss you."

"Ethan, call me your wife."

"Emma, my wife."

All the things he'd never say sober came pouring out without hesitation when he was drunk.

I used to be secretly thrilled by it.

His tenderness, his warmth, his devotion—they only fully belonged to me under the influence of alcohol.

Every time, I tested my place in his heart with the same repeated questions.

And every time, I got the answer I wanted.

I filled the insecurity inside me with that counterfeit love.

But now, I was tired of hearing it.

It was time to wake up.

I clenched my fists and looked up at him.

"Ethan, do you love Olivia?"

Ethan didn't hesitate for a single second.

"Yes. Olivia, I love you."

I stumbled backward, step by step.

This was the secret he'd hidden for three years.

I heard myself continue.

"Ethan, do you want to marry Olivia?"

The man's eyes reddened. His lips trembled with something that looked like grievance.

He stepped forward and pulled me into a tight embrace, burying his face in my shoulder like a prayer.

"Yes... I dream about it."

"Olivia, will you marry me?"

Through the haze of alcohol, Ethan had mistaken me for Olivia.

The lawyer who always stood above everyone else was now as small and desperate as a child terrified of being left behind.

His lack of love for me was a blade, stabbing into my heart over and over.

The pain made me tremble. The disappointment froze me to the core.

Of course.

From start to finish, he had never loved me.

I was just a shadow.

Now his light had returned, and the shadow was meant to disappear.

I didn't humiliate myself further. I didn't answer.

In that vast room, the only sound was the clock ticking.

I stood there, letting him lean heavily against me, letting his body heat slowly seep into mine.

I used to crave his warmth so badly.

On freezing winter nights, I'd instinctively press closer to him.

In the biting wind, I'd hold his hand and refuse to let go.

But now, even though the breeze outside was mild, I was suddenly, impossibly cold.

I didn't move, not until my legs went numb, not until he had no strength left.

Finally, I shoved Ethan away.

He fell onto the sofa and sank into a deep sleep.

That night, for the first time, we slept apart.

His breathing filled the living room.

My tears fell without a sound.

The next morning, I was woken by Ethan's phone.

His assistant's excited voice came through the speaker.

"Ethan, you and Olivia move fast! The wedding planner's been waiting forever. Olivia's already here. Get over here!"

"Oh, and what about your wedding with Emma? Want me to notify them to cancel?"

The wedding planning company—Ethan had contacted them himself.

He'd told me I was working too hard preparing the wedding alone. He wanted to take some of the burden off my shoulders.

I'd smiled so happily at the time.

I had no idea all those arrangements were for Olivia.

Ethan's voice dropped to a whisper.

"Keep it down. Don't let Emma hear."

He shot up from the sofa and rushed into the bedroom.

Our eyes met.