Chapter 2
Less than thirty minutes after Emily fired off that message, the front door nearly shook off its hinges.
Ethan burst through the door, still panting from his mad dash home.
But when he saw Emily just chilling on the couch like nothing had happened, Ethan frowned. He asked, "What happened? Are you sick or something? Come on, I'm taking you to the hospital."
As he spoke, he reached out to feel her forehead.
Emily snapped out of her daze and shot him a mischievous grin.
She said, "Fooled you. I spilled the wine just to trick you—how else could I get you to come home?"
Ethan's face went stormy. His voice dropped to a low growl as he snapped, "Seriously, you're impossible."
Emily pressed her lips together, staying silent.
Her attitude was starting to really get on Ethan's nerves.
He'd felt a little guilty and uneasy at first, but after a while, being around Emily just felt dull and tiring.
Even that look she gave him—the one that used to tug at his heartstrings—now just felt like a heavy burden he couldn't explain.
Ethan turned to leave, but froze when he saw the banner drooping off the wall.
The words Happy 5th Anniversary jumped out at him, and suddenly the anger drained from his voice.
Ha asked, "Today is our fifth wedding anniversary?"
Emily stood up and walked over to the banner, which was barely clinging to the wall with a patch of glue. In one sharp movement, she tore it down.
Just like the banner, their five-year marriage was only held together by sheer stubbornness, keeping up a pointless illusion of happiness.
It looked pathetic.
Emily glanced at the clock on the wall and corrected him, "It was yesterday."
Ethan paused for a moment, then said, "Sorry, I've just been buried in work and it totally slipped my mind. I'll get you something later to make up for it."
Emily edged closer to him, instantly hit by the smell of alcohol mixed with some overpowering perfume clinging to his clothes.
She forced a bitter smile and said, "You're always so busy, aren't you?"
Ethan caught the sarcasm and scowled. He said, "Seriously? I have to party with clients sometimes—having a few drinks is just part of the job. Why are you always acting like I'm up to something?
"Emily, you never used to be like this. These days, you're just turning into a bitter nag."
Emily thought nothing could hurt her anymore, that she was already numb—but Ethan's words sliced through her defenses, leaving a raw, new wound.
Ethan was the head of the Rivers family now—others feared him; no one could force him to drink if he didn't want to.
But Emily didn't even have the energy to expose him anymore. She was simply too exhausted to fight.
It was always like this. For the past year, every time they tried to talk, it always ended in a fight.
Emily lifted her eyes and stared blankly into the empty air above.
The countdown read: [Death Countdown: 2 days, 11 hours, 47 minutes, 53 seconds.]
She was running out of time—splitting hairs over fault was already meaningless.
For once, Emily let down her guard.
She lowered her voice and asked, "Ethan, can't you just stay with me, just this once? Is that really too much?"
Seeing Emily soften like that, Ethan's resolve completely crumbled.
In the end, his feet refused to carry him out the door.
They lay in bed, Emily curled up in Ethan's arms.
She found herself drawn to his warmth, instinctively seeking comfort in his embrace.
Ethan wrapped his arms around her, but his brow furrowed without him even realizing it.
He asked, "Why are you so thin?"
Guys only started to notice the difference after they'd held another woman in their arms.
Emily flashed back to the woman in the video—those full, sleek curves—and the realization hit like a slap: Ethan thought she was too thin, too flat, nothing next to that polished body.
Her throat tightened, but she still managed to reply softly, "I had a stomachache a few days ago, so I haven't been eating much."
Ethan's voice dropped as he asked, "Why is your stomach acting up again? Didn't I get it all sorted out for you before?"
Emily went quiet for a moment, then whispered, "You haven't made me a herbal dish in ages."
Back when they first got married, Ethan doted on Emily like she was royalty. Whenever her stomach bothered her, he'd dive headfirst into learning all kinds of herbal dishes and personally cook each one just to help nurse her back to health.
But as time passed, his affection faded. He stopped paying attention to Emily, and the herbal dish he used to make for her became just another thing of the past.
Ethan recalled it too, but instead of guilt, Emily's mention of his neglect just made him feel more irritable.
His face fell as he said, "There's medicine at home. If your stomach hurts, just take some. Stop pretending to be all dramatic in front of me."
Emily nodded. She said calmly, "I know. I wasn't trying to say anything, really."
Emily's sudden softness made something stir inside Ethan—a mix of emotions he couldn't quite pin down.
His gaze darkened, and his hand began to wander slowly over Emily's body.