Chapter 2

Last month, while helping Ethan tidy his study, I stumbled upon a diary. It was filled with neat, dense writing detailing his love and deep affection for Lily over the past decade. Tucked inside was a photo of the two of them. On the back, in familiar handwriting, was the word "Love."

It was hard to picture this cold, noble man loving someone so profoundly.

It turned out he wasn't incapable of love, nor was he inherently cold and heartless; he just truly didn't love me.

Last week was our third wedding anniversary.

I had booked Ethan's favorite restaurant in advance, prepared flowers and a gift, and confirmed the plan with him. Yet, that evening, I sat alone in the restaurant, waiting and waiting, but he never showed.

My texts went unanswered, and my calls went straight to voicemail. My mind was a mess. I was terrified that Ethan had met with some danger. I even considered rushing to the police station to file a missing person report.

But then I worried he might just be tied up and hadn't had a chance to let me know. What if he finished his business and came to the restaurant only to find me gone? I had no choice but to stay put and wait.

I waited until the food on the table was stone cold.

I waited as one couple after another came and went at the surrounding tables.

I waited until the restaurant staff finally approached to subtly let me know they were closing up for the night.

Clutching the flowers and gifts, I was about to head home when it suddenly started pouring rain.

I was instantly soaked to the bone. While I was taking shelter under a shop awning, I suddenly remembered that as Ethan's secretary, I had followed Ethan's friend, Ryan Carter, on Instagram.

I quickly opened Ryan's chat, intending to ask if he knew where Ethan was, but accidentally clicked on his story. It was a video of their group from a bar with the caption: [True love always finds its way back. Wishing you all the best.]

The star of the video was Ethan. His usual ice-cold face had suddenly thawed, with eyes full of tenderness. He smiled faintly, raised his glass, and said to the gorgeous girl across from him, "Lily, welcome back."

My heart went completely cold in that moment.

So, he stood me up, made me worry all night, left me sitting in the restaurant for hours, and finally soaked in the rain, all for the sake of throwing a welcome party for Lily, who had just returned to the country.

Once again, my hands shaking, I called Ethan.

This time, he picked up.

I steadied my voice, clinging to a shred of hope. "Where are you? I've been waiting for you forever at the restaurant. It's raining outside, and I don't have an umbrella. Can you come and get me?"

The background noise on Ethan's end was no longer the deafening bar music. He had probably moved to a quieter spot to take the call.

He replied, "I can't get away. I had an impromptu meeting with a few project CEOs, and we're still drinking. Just take a cab home."

I asked in a quiet, choked voice, "Are you coming back tonight?"

He was silent for a moment. "I won't be back. Get some rest."

I just said "Okay" and hung up.

The dream I had been living for three years had snapped.

Heartbroken, I walked home in the pouring rain, tossing the flowers and gifts straight into the trash.

I sat on the sofa, staying up all night, unable to stop myself from opening Ryan's story again and again. It was like self-torture, confirming for the hundredth time that I had truly never been loved.

*****

The next morning, I dragged myself to work. As soon as I walked in, I saw Ethan coming in. Dressed in a suit, he was actually smiling and nodding at every employee he passed.

Everyone was stunned and immediately started whispering.

"Wow, Mr. Sinclair looks so happy today."

"He actually smiled at us. I always thought he was a total iceberg."

My colleague next to me nudged me and quietly asked, "You've been his secretary for ages. Have you ever seen him smile like that?"

I instinctively clenched my fists, forcing a smile. "No, I haven't."

It was true. In three years of marriage, I had genuinely never seen him look so happy.

My colleague nodded, gossiping. "Maybe the stone-faced boss is finally blooming."

Ethan walked over to me. A flash of apology crossed his features as he noticed my pale face. He said, "Ms. Monroe, please come inside with me."

I followed him into his office.

"Claire, why do you look so terrible? Did you not sleep well last night?" he asked gently as he took off his suit jacket.

I didn't answer.

He walked closer to me and reached out, touching my hair. "Are you upset? I'm sorry about last night. Things got hectic, and I didn't get a chance to let you know. My phone was on silent, so I missed your call."

I silently studied him. Everything he wore today, from his shirt and tie to his suit, was new, and he carried the faint scent of women's perfume. There was even a faintly visible hickey on his neck.

I stared at the mark, the wave of bitterness washing over me again.

Seeing my obvious distress, Ethan pressed his lips together. I knew this was his signal that he was starting to get impatient.

He looked down and took a delicate little box from his pocket. "Claire, this is for you. I chose it especially for our anniversary. Don't be mad at me, alright?"

Seeing that I didn't reach out to take it, he simply opened the box himself. Inside was a stunning diamond necklace, which was clearly expensive. He took the necklace out, walked behind me, and fastened it around my neck himself.

When the cold chain touched my skin, I instinctively shivered and suddenly spoke. "Have you only ever given this necklace to me?"

Ethan paused for a moment, then laughed. "Of course, only you."

Yet, Lily was wearing an identical necklace in the video from last night.

He rested his hands on my shoulders and leaned in toward my lips, but just as his kiss was about to land, I quickly turned my head away. I said, "Mr. Sinclair, I have work to do. I'll see myself out."

With that, I pushed the door open and hurried out of the office.

Since his beloved had returned, it was time for me, who had been warming her seat for three years, to step aside.