Chapter 3

I‘d just set down the laundry basket when the doorbell rang.

I went to answer it, but Ethan got there first.

The person standing outside had flushed cheeks, clearly having drunk quite a bit.

She smiled when she saw Ethan: “I knew you’d still be awake.”

Ethan instinctively glanced back at me, then lowered his voice: “Why are you here?”

She didn‘t answer, swaying unsteadily as she walked inside.

Not until she saw me standing in the living room did she pause. “Oh, you’re here too.”

Xavier caught her from behind and explained to me: “Sophia, she‘s had too much to drink. We were taking her home, but she insisted on coming here.”

Mason stood in the doorway, his expression somewhat uncomfortable as he glanced at me.

Then his gaze swept to Ethan, his tone turning sharp:

“Ethan, your wife is home. Don’t you know how to avoid suspicion?”

Ethan froze for a moment, then frowned and shot back: “You got her this drunk and brought her to my place, and you want me to avoid suspicion?”

“I got her drunk? It‘s because you posted that ’newly single‘ status!” Mason let out a cold laugh and stepped aside. “Fine, you’re so noble, so proper. I‘ve delivered the person who got drunk over you. Do what you want.”

The two men stood on either side of the door.

The air seemed frozen.

Xavier, caught in the middle, coughed awkwardly: “Alright, alright, stop fighting. Vivian just came by since it was on the way—”

I stood in the center of the living room, watching this performance from start to finish.

They were too coordinated.

If I hadn‘t personally heard them toasting together, I might have believed their mutual hostility was real.

All along, I’d thought the bond between Xavier, Mason, and me was unbreakable.

At my most loyal, I‘d even married both of them.

My parents died early, and my grandfather was always busy.

Those two filled my entire childhood and adolescence.

Xavier was there whenever I had troubles in school.

Mason even took a knife for me from a kidnapper.

To me, they were closer than family.

But when did our ironclad triangle become like this?

Probably starting in high school, the year Vivian Lane appeared.

A new circle formed outside our group.

I gradually became the neglected remnant.

Only when they needed my help would they remember me...

I withdrew my gaze, no longer looking at them.

Some cracks weren’t formed today.

I just chose to see them today.

“Your timing is perfect. There‘s something I’d like you to witness in person.”

I walked to the coffee table and picked up the divorce agreement:

“Two copies, I‘ve already signed both. Since everyone’s here, might as well look them over clearly.”

Ethan‘s expression shifted slightly, but he quickly caught on.

By bringing up the divorce in front of Xavier and Mason on my own initiative, I was proving to them what I was willing to do for him.

His eyes showed a hint of pride.

“Sophia,” he walked over, his tone soothing, “we can discuss this privately. There’s no need—”

“Since she‘s already brought it out,” Vivian suddenly spoke up, “can I ask—when are you moving out?”

The living room fell silent for a moment.

Ethan frowned. Vivian didn’t look at him, only at me, her expression innocent:

“After all, this house is in my name. You can‘t keep living here forever, right?”

I froze.

The house was in her name?

I instinctively looked at Ethan.

He avoided my gaze, his throat bobbing, but he didn’t contradict her.

In that instant, countless images surged through my mind.

The day we moved in, he held my hand and said “this is our home.”

When buying the house, he said “I‘ll handle the paperwork, you don’t need to worry.”

I happily took charge of choosing curtains, sofas, and the dining table...

Every piece of furniture here—I‘d made trip after trip to the home goods store to pick them out.

Everything was arranged according to his preferences...

I’d never cared whose name was on the deed.

But I never imagined that our marital home would be in another woman‘s name!

I looked down at the agreement in my hands and laughed.

“I’ll leave now.”