Chapter 2
The moment my words landed, Ethan visibly froze for a split second.
But just as quickly, his mask of indifference slipped back into place.
"That was something from when I was young. Now we're married and have a child. I'll be responsible for you and Mia," he said.
His calm, emotionless words only made me seem even more hysterical in comparison.
"Is that all you feel for me? Just responsibility? Ethan, have you ever truly loved me?" I pressed, my voice trembling.
Ethan met my burning gaze, and for a moment, there was a flash of panic deep in his eyes.
He didn't answer. Instead, he pulled me into the bedroom.
"Olivia, get some rest. I have surgery tomorrow," he said, his tone flat.
I pulled myself out of his hold, my voice getting louder. "Did you marry me because you love me, or just because I look a bit like Monica?"
My cheeks were wet with tears, but I stubbornly held on because I needed an answer.
That girl Ethan wrote about in his diary, the one who looked just like Monica, was me.
Our features were almost identical, and even the mole on her collarbone—I had one in the exact same spot.
No wonder Ethan always kissed my collarbone whenever we got close.
He always said it was the sexiest spot on my body.
It felt like a knife twisting in my heart. So all those times we were together, Ethan's mind was always on Monica.
After a long silence, Ethan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before speaking to me, his patience stretched thin. "I love you, Olivia. Please, can you stop it? I have a big surgery tomorrow morning, and I could really use some sleep."
With that, he turned and headed back to the bedroom, not looking back.
I stood there alone in the quiet room.
He was always like this, moving through life like he was programmed, sticking to his schedule so strictly that he'd be in bed before eleven, no matter what.
Not even our fights could break that routine.
Just as I finally collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, Ethan's private phone started ringing.
Out of habit, I reached for it, about to decline the call and mute his phone for him.
But Ethan grabbed my hand, stopping me, and answered the call himself.
In that split second, I caught a glimpse of the caller ID—Monica.
Everything clicked into place. Ethan always put his private phone on silent whenever he slept at night.
But for Monica, he kept it on twenty-four hours a day.
"Ethan, are you still awake? Sorry for bothering you so late," Monica's gentle voice drifted through the receiver.
Ethan's hand shook slightly as he gripped the phone, unable to hide his nervousness. "No, I'm still up," he answered, his tone betraying a hint of excitement.
Monica's voice came through, almost breaking with tears. "Ethan, I just twisted my ankle in the shower. If I go to the hospital, there'll be no one to look after Anna. Would you mind coming over? But if it's too much trouble..."
Before Monica could even finish speaking, Ethan was already throwing on his clothes.
"Monica, just stay put and wait for me, okay? And about Anna's competition the day after tomorrow, have you got everything figured out?" he asked, worry clear in his voice.
There was a long pause on the other end.
"If you're busy, I can take Anna myself," Ethan offered softly.
His words left me speechless, completely stunned.
My blood was boiling, and I was seconds away from losing it. "Ethan, the day after tomorrow is Mia's sixth birthday. You promised you'd take her to Wonderland Park. Don't you remember?"
Ethan was a surgeon, constantly swamped with work.
The only time he'd ever set aside for Mia was on her birthday.
And Mia had been counting down the days for the trip to Wonderland Park.
She'd already asked me to iron the dress Ethan bought her, saying she wanted him to pick her up and take a bunch of pictures together.