Chapter 2

Ethan and I went to college together.

He was an architecture major; I was in photography.

During an outdoor shoot, I accidentally captured his silhouette while he was sketching drafts.

I thought he looked incredibly handsome when he was completely absorbed in his work, and I started keeping an eye on him.

Eventually, I fell for him and began pursuing him relentlessly.

Everyone in Ethan's class knew there was a girl crazy about him.

Rain or shine, I'd buy him a cup of coffee before his classes started.

When he stayed up late in the studio building models, I'd wait by the doors just to catch a glimpse of him.

The year we graduated, he finally agreed to be with me.

I cried in my dorm room for an hour that day.

Tears of pure joy.

Only much later did I slowly realize he hadn't agreed to date me because he loved me.

He agreed because he felt no one would ever take better care of him than I did.

I only learned this by accident from his mother.

"Ethan has always been very rational, and girls always threw themselves at him."

"When I pushed him to settle down and get married, he picked you."

"I asked him why, and he said you were the best at looking after someone, so marrying you would be pretty nice."

She said it so casually, yet it ripped away the fragile curtain hiding the truth of our marriage.

During our first year of marriage, Ethan was quiet, but at least he would accompany me to galleries on weekends.

If I said I wanted to check out a photography exhibit, he'd go, even if he complained it was too far away.

The turning point came after Bella was born.

During those first few months postpartum, I raised the baby completely alone. He had overtime, business trips, clients demanding revisions—there was always a convenient excuse for him not to be home.

One night, completely breaking down while nursing, I called him. He said, "Doesn't Bella have you?"

I asked if he could please come home earlier.

He snapped, "Can you stop being like this? I'm exhausted out here too."

From then on, he spent even less time at home. Whenever he did walk through the door, he went straight into the bedroom.

That was the first time I felt what stood between us wasn't just a wooden door.

It was light-years.

Yet back then, I didn't stop.

I convinced myself that as long as I kept trying, I would eventually make him fall in love with me.

For ten whole years, I acted as his live-in maid.

I faithfully used my camera to document his every move, every tiny change in our little home.

Yet it seemed he had never once truly seen me.

Back in college, I had the highest GPA in my department. My senior thesis project won top honors, and my professor recommended me for an assistant role at a prestigious photography magazine.

I turned it down.

Because Ethan signed an offer with an architecture firm in this city.

I thought staying together was the only thing that truly mattered.

Later, when Bella was born, I quit my job entirely to stay home with her.

Ethan said, "It's fine if you stay home. Saves us the cost of hiring a nanny."

That photography magazine eventually blew up, winning several major industry awards.

Whenever their features randomly popped up on my Instagram feed, I would pause and stare at the screen for a long time.

Then I'd lock my phone and go back to washing baby bottles.