Chapter 3

I tossed the last bottle of pills into the trash.

I didn't want to take any more meds these final days. I wanted to make sure I left this place clear-headed.

So when Ethan showed up with Jessica and moved in, I was oddly calm, even without the meds.

Ethan bent down, his face full of gentleness, and helped Jessica slip on her slippers.

Then he glanced up at the now-empty shoe rack, looking confused. "Where did all your shoes go?"

Every year on my birthday, he'd give me a pair of high heels.

Even if they didn't fit, I'd still treasure them and keep them on the rack.

I replied, "Didn't you say Jessica had a lot of stuff and told me to clear some space for her?"

Ethan gave an awkward smile. "Guess you really did have a ton of high heels."

I lifted my chin and looked him straight in the eyes. "I never wear high heels."

Deep down, I always knew he never paid attention to what I wore. His heart was never really with me.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door and saw William's secretary. She greeted me politely.

I turned and went back inside, handing her the packed suitcase.

Ethan frowned when he saw this. "Are you leaving?"

I shook my head gently. "Just some useless stuff."

Ethan didn't commit to it either way, but still felt the need to remind me, "Stop buying things on a whim, especially for me. Your taste just isn't for me."

I looked at him and gave a faint, indifferent smile. "Okay."

Jessica popped out of her room, pouting as she grumbled that the vanity wasn't her style, the closet was tiny, and the tub was cramped.

Ethan just looked at her with that soft, adoring smile.

He ruffled her hair and told her he'd already ordered new furniture, and it'd all show up in a few days.

He was shelling out major cash, decking Jessica out with a full set of luxury furniture.

And that suitcase I just handed off? That was literally every single thing I had in this apartment.

While Jessica was in the bathroom, Ethan slid over and slipped his arms around me. "Sharon, come on. Please understand. Jessie's always been like a little sister to me.

"I'll propose to you again. The three of us will be family. We'll take care of her together, alright?"

Before, I would've been thrilled at how close he was getting. Just a little attention from him used to make my day.

But now, I felt nothing inside. I edged away just a little, quietly slipping out of his hold without him noticing.

Time slipped by so fast that before I even realized, the prime spot at the supermarket was stacked high with fresh mangoes.

Mangoes had always been my absolute favorite.

Before my mom ended her own life, she peeled the last mango for me with her own hands.

She told me she wished that someday I'd find a guy who'd peel mangoes for me, just like she used to.

But Ethan was allergic to mangoes.

So all these years, I had almost never bought any, just to accommodate him, even though I loved them so much.

This time, I bought myself a whole bag of mangoes, sat by myself on a park bench, and slowly savored each one.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Jessica—just a single photo.

In the photo, Ethan, who was totally allergic to mangoes, was all geared up with gloves and a mask, peeling one for Jessica and even cutting it into little pieces.

I looked at the photo and smiled. This really was the kind of special treatment worth flaunting.

Just then, my phone rang—it was Ethan.

He said, "Sharon, I'm coming to pick you up and take you to my office. I've got a surprise for you."

The faint scent of mango still lingered in Ethan's car.

His fingers bore traces of a rash from his mango allergy.

A soft, rosy mark lingered at the edge of his lips.

Jessica was sitting in the passenger seat, smiling and greeting me, rosy lipstick smeared around the edges of her lips.

I ignored her and slipped into the back seat.

Ethan casually handed me a box of mangoes.

"Here, I know you love these," he said.

I stared at the box—a mess of half-eaten mango pits—and didn't reach for it.

In his eyes, I only deserved what Jessica didn't even want.

I gave a wry, self-mocking smile, blinked away the sting, and turned to stare out the window.

Ethan's studio was all dolled up for romance. Soft pink balloons and white candles everywhere gave the place a dreamy glow.

And smack dab in the middle was a huge welcome banner for the client.

Ethan's partner, Ingrid Bennett, held onto my hand, beaming at me.

She said, "Sharon, we've got a foreign client coming by to check out the studio tomorrow. He loves all things romantic, so Ethan thought it would be sweet to have him witness your proposal. Isn't that lovely?

"Men always put their careers first. You don't really have the skills to help him out in that department, so this proposal is your one shot. If you manage to impress the client and snag that deal, you'll get to be a lady of leisure, enjoying a stress-free life at home."

She sighed and gave Jessica, who was standing next to Ethan, a look.

Ingrid went on, "Sharon, don't take this the wrong way. We're friends. Just look at Jessie. She's so lively and charming. But you? You're way too reserved. If a woman can't even maintain her relationship, it's just... sad."

Jessica walked over with a bright smile, slipping her arm through mine like we were the best of sisters.

I angled my body away, quietly pulling out of her grasp. I was in no mood to play along.