Chapter 2

Hannah was beaming.

"A car like this is more than enough to make me happy!"

She turned to me.

"Serena must have tons of cars to pick from, right?"

I answered flatly.

"Not right now. But I will."

Ethan's brow furrowed instantly.

"When did I ever say I'd buy you a car?"

"You don't need one. Just stay home and take care of the house."

I let out a cold laugh.

In his mind, buying a car meant depending on him.

But what I meant was that I'd buy one myself.

"Serena doesn't even have a job. She really doesn't need a car. Staying home doing housework all day, must be so relaxing."

Hannah chimed in right on cue, and Ethan glanced at me.

"Indeed."

The absurdity of it hit me like a wave.

He had a sensitive stomach, so I spent two hours every day preparing meals tailored to his diet.

We lived in a two-story townhouse, and he refused to hire a cleaning service because he didn't like strangers touching his things.

Cleaning alone took an entire afternoon.

He just never saw any of it.

All he had to do was enjoy a home-cooked dinner and a spotless house.

I fought back the urge to cry.

"Ethan, anyone in the world can say I have it easy. Anyone except you."

Seeing me on the verge of tears, Ethan looked almost guilty for a moment.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Hannah cut in.

"Serena, you have no idea how hard Ethan works every day. Only I know how exhausted he is. You should be more understanding. I'm just his assistant, but I really feel for him."

Ethan looked down at her and smiled.

"Look at you, actually worrying about me."

"At least someone around here appreciates me."

Hannah tilted her face up at him. "Well, since your fiancée doesn't appreciate you, I guess someone has to pick up the slack, right?"

Ethan laughed and gave her forehead a light tap with his finger.

When he turned back to me, his eyes were ice cold.

"Serena, see?"

"Hannah helps me so much with work every day, and she never once complains about being tired."

I lowered my head. I didn't want to say another word.

"Sure. I'm the one who has it easy, right?"

I turned and walked into the bedroom.

The door hadn't even closed yet.

Hannah walked right in.

She opened the closet and pulled out a few of Ethan's suits and dress shirts.

Every week she came to take his clothes to the dry cleaner.

But this time, her eyes drifted to the corner of the closet.

Folded neatly there were the cheap matching hoodies Ethan and I had bought back when he was still struggling.

Neither of us had ever had the heart to throw them away.

Hannah glanced at them and called out toward the living room.

"Ethan, there are some ratty old clothes in here. Want me to toss them?"

I was about to speak.

From outside came Ethan's low voice.

"Do whatever you want with it."

The words died in my throat.

I stared at those silly, almost laughable matching hoodies in her hands.

Maybe back then was when we were happiest.

I didn't stop her.

Hannah gathered up the clothes, then let her gaze settle on me.

"Serena, why are you still keeping this junk?"

"Ethan stopped loving you a long time ago. Haven't you noticed?"

She smiled, bold and brazen.

A completely different person from the one she played in front of Ethan.

"I know you really wanted that car. But he just wouldn't buy it for you. I barely mentioned it once, and he got it for me on the spot."

"Jealous?"

I looked at her, and a laugh escaped before I could stop it.

She glared at me, irritated.

I smiled and said:

"Hannah, sometimes I actually think you're kind of adorable."

"All your little schemes are so obvious, and so ridiculous. Don't you think?"