Chapter 5
"Slow-Cooked Pork Stew? Are you serious?" Aunt Clara scoffed. "Your mother's recovering, not heading to a barbecue. Look at the soup Sophia made—light, nourishing, and actually appropriate for a patient.
"You've been taking care of this family for three years, yet somehow a complete outsider shows more consideration than you do."
With that, she dismissed me entirely and turned her attention back to Sophia.
I set the thermos down to the side.
Uncle Edward picked up the Slow-Cooked Pork Stew I'd made and took a sip.
"This soup tastes great. It's cooked just right," he said.
Right after he said that, he seemed to realize he'd said something he shouldn't have. He gave an awkward smile and stayed quiet.
Ethan stood by the window without sparing me a single glance. His attention never left Sophia as she fed his mother, adjusted her pillow, and tucked the blanket around her.
It was like he was looking at something precious he thought he'd lost forever and finally got back.
That afternoon, Sophia stayed for a full four hours. She helped Grace freshen up, changed her clothes, and even spent half an hour telling jokes that had Grace laughing out loud.
All the relatives seemed to be fussing over her, hanging on her every word.
"She's such a thoughtful girl."
"Ethan, your classmate is really something."
"If only my daughter-in-law were half as good as her," Aunt Clara said, deliberately raising her voice.
She made sure I heard it loud and clear.
I heard her loud and clear.
I stood in the hallway reviewing Grace's medical bills. In just three days, the costs had already reached nearly fifty thousand dollars. I'd covered the deposit myself, pulling the money straight from the joint account Ethan and I shared.
No one offered to help, and no one asked where the money came from.
When Sophia was leaving, Ethan walked her to the elevator.
I was on my way to the nurses' station to grab a thermometer when I spotted them just around the corner.
Sophia finally looked at me. She gave me a polite but distant nod.
"Thanks for everything you've done, Lina," she said, her tone courteous but detached.
I looked at her face. She was stunning—fair skin, delicate features, and a fresh, clean vibe, like a lily.
Then I glanced down and caught a glimpse of a faint red mark just above her collarbone, peeking out from her neckline.
It was in the exact same spot as the mark in the bathroom selfie on her socials.
"No problem," I said. "I appreciate you coming to see my mother-in-law."
I stepped aside to let her pass.
As Ethan walked past me, I noticed a faint trace of perfume clinging to him. It wasn't the hospital's disinfectant, and it definitely wasn't any laundry detergent I use.
It was Sophia's fragrance—her scent, lingering on him.
That night, Ethan actually came home for once.
He was sitting on the living room couch, talking on the phone about work. I was in the kitchen, getting Grace's meals ready for tomorrow.
After he hung up, he walked into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, watching me.
"Lina," he said.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"I'm sorry you've been put through so much because of my mom," he said.
I kept chopping carrots, not missing a beat.
"That doesn't mean you're completely blameless," he said. "You were home. If my mom was going out, you should've gone with her."
The knife hit the cutting board. I paused for a second.
"I told her I'd go, but she wouldn't let me," I said.
"So you just gave up because she said no? Couldn't you have pushed a little harder?" he snapped.
I put down the knife and turned to face him.
"Ethan, do you honestly think the issue is that I didn't go to the market with your mother" I asked.
"What else could it be?" he replied.
"You were unreachable for three days. I called you eighty-nine times, and you didn't answer once. Your hospital has no record of any medical symposium.
"Your mother spent six hours waiting for you while doctors fought to save her leg, and in the end, they had no choice but to amputate. And somehow, you think this is my fault?"
Ethan's expression turned cold.
"I already told you, it was a state-level medical symposium, not part of the hospital system. They took everyone's phones away. If you want to make it into something else, that's on you—I can't help it," he said.
He stared right at me. When we first met, his eyes were so soft you could get lost in them. Now, they were just cold and unreadable—like polished stones, hard and empty.
"Lina, right now, all I care about is finding the best prosthetic plan for my mom. I don't have time to fight with you. If you've got a problem, save it for later, alright?" he said.
He turned and walked out of the kitchen.
He left me standing there alone in front of the cutting board.
The carrot was only half-chopped.
I picked up my phone and texted Lily Turner: [Can you come out for a bit?]
Lily Turner replied almost instantly: [Give me half an hour. Same place as always.]
Lily Turner was my best friend from college. She studied nursing and now works as a head nurse at a top-tier hospital in the next city. She talks fast, thinks fast, and never beats around the bush.