Chapter 2
After that day, Ethan stopped picking up and dropping off Charlotte—at least not in ways that I knew about.
We rarely spoke, like strangers living under the same roof.
I focused on preparing the hospital bag, organizing baby supplies, scheduling prenatal checkups.
Every kick from the baby made me more determined to leave.
Until that night.
Ethan stumbled onto the bed reeking of alcohol.
The strong smell of liquor mixed with unfamiliar perfume made me nauseous.
"Ethan," I pushed him, "go take a shower."
He mumbled an "mm-hmm" but didn't move.
I turned on the light to wake him, but my gaze froze on his neck.
A small, fresh red mark.
My mind went blank for a few seconds.
I reached out, my fingertip touching that patch of skin—it was still warm.
The touch woke Ethan. He opened his eyes groggily: "What..."
"What's this?" My voice was trembling.
He touched his neck in confusion, then his whole body stiffened.
The alcohol had worn off. He sat up abruptly, his eyes darting around.
"It's a mosquito bite!"
"Mosquitoes in winter?" I questioned shakily. "Ethan, your eyes drift to the right when you lie."
His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
"Was it Charlotte?" I asked with terrifying calmness.
"No!" He grabbed my hand urgently.
"Victoria, listen to me. Tonight Mr. Harrison hosted a birthday party. I drank too much, and when she helped me, it was an accident."
"An accident that left such an intense mark?"
"It really was an accident!" His eyes reddened.
"I swear, you're the only one in my heart. Please believe me..."
I looked into his eyes, full of panic and guilt, but no honesty.
Seven years. I knew him too well.
"Let's get divorced," I said.
He froze like someone had hit pause, staring at me motionlessly.
After a long time, he finally squeezed out words: "What... did you say?"
"I said, let's get divorced." I enunciated each word.
"Are you crazy!" He grabbed my shoulders.
"Just because of a mark? Victoria, Charlotte and I have nothing going on! I drive her to and from work, accompany her to business events—it's all for work!"
"So you let her leave her mark on your neck?" I laughed.
"Ethan, are you treating me like a fool, or yourself?"
"Then what do you want me to do!" He suddenly shouted, eyes bloodshot.
"Get on my knees and apologize? Write a guarantee? Victoria, I'm tired enough of acting like a doormat at work—you're going to push me at home too?"
So my waiting, my patience, enduring morning sickness and prenatal checkups alone—all of that was me pushing him.
"Fine," I nodded, throwing off the covers to get out of bed. "Then I won't push anymore."
The moment my feet touched the floor, my lower abdomen suddenly tightened, like a hand viciously twisting my insides.
I let out a muffled groan and had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing.
"What's wrong?" Ethan finally noticed something was off.
"Nothing." I gritted my teeth. "I won't die."
But the pain grew fiercer.
I bent over, my forehead pressed against the cold wall.
"Victoria!" Ethan rushed over to support me. "Why is your face so pale?"
His phone rang at that moment.
Charlotte's name flashed glaringly on the screen.
He glanced at it, then at me, his fingers trembling slightly.
"Answer it," I said through the pain. "Maybe she also has a stomachache and needs you to take her to the hospital."
"Don't be like this..." He held his phone, at a loss.
When the phone rang for the third time, he finally answered: "Hello? What's wrong?"
"Don't cry, speak slowly... You fell? How bad is it? Okay, I'll be right there."
He turned to look at me, his expression conflicted: "Charlotte fell down the stairs. Her leg might be fractured. She lives alone..."
"Go ahead," I cut him off. "She's more important than me and the baby. I know."
"That's not what I mean! Wait for me, I'll take her to the hospital and come right back..."
"Don't bother." I looked into his eyes.
"Ethan, we're done."