Chapter 2

Six in the evening. The downpour arrived as scheduled, thunder ripping through the sky.

Normally by this time, I'd be running around the kitchen, busy as can be. I would have pre-ordered dry-aged prime ribeye. I'd trim it, decant a red wine from Ethan's birth year, and light expensive scented candles. Then I'd dress myself up like a fancy gift waiting to be sent back.

This time, looking at the empty dining table, I felt nothing but irony.

I picked up my phone, opened a delivery app, and casually ordered a cheap pizza, the kind I would never touch normally, and Ethan would sneer at.

I sat cross-legged on the sofa, holding a slice of cheap, store-brand pizza. I took a bite; the cold cheese wouldn't melt in my mouth, tasting like cardboard.

But I actually enjoyed it, because I ordered it for myself, not to cater to Ethan's picky palate.

Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.

It was Ethan.

When I heard the key turn in the lock, I was still sitting cross-legged on the sofa, holding a half-eaten slice of pizza, tomato sauce smeared on the corner of my mouth.

Ethan pushed the door open. When he saw the scene, he froze in the entryway. He was carrying his briefcase, having returned for an important document he'd forgotten.

In previous loops, when he came back for the document and saw my carefully prepared candlelight dinner, a fleeting moment of guilt would cross his face, only to turn into sheer disgust when I insisted he stay for dinner.

Now, the living room had no roses, no candlelight, only the lingering smell of cheap cheese and burnt crust.

"What... are you eating?" Ethan frowned, his gaze falling on the greasy pizza box as if it were some bio-weapon.

"Dinner." I swallowed my food, didn't get up to greet him, or even lift my eyelids. "If you're getting files, hurry up. Don't let me delay your overtime."

Ethan changed his shoes and walked in, his steps heavy. He didn't go straight to the study but walked into the living room, standing in front of me, blocking the TV light.

"Today is..." He paused, seemingly waiting for me to remind him.

"I know, Friday, right?" I interrupted him, picking up a pill bottle from the coffee table and pouring out a handful of white pills.

They weren't vitamins; they were strong painkillers. The system had warned me that as the countdown approached, the feeling of my soul detaching from my body would intensify. The pain was like someone sawing at my bones with a dull knife.

The moment I heard him open the door, a sudden sharp pain erupted in my spine, so intense I almost dropped the pizza.

I tilted my head back and swallowed all dozen pills in front of Ethan, without even water, forcing them down. A bitter taste spread in my mouth, slightly suppressing the agonizing, churning pain inside me.

"Why are you taking so many vitamins?" Ethan's frown deepened as he watched me swallow the pills, a hint of inexplicable irritation in his eyes. "Scarlett, are you sick?"

Ha, asking now, isn't it a bit too late?

"Losing some hair lately. Just supplementing." I lied casually, picked up the remote, and turned up the TV volume. The variety show on screen erupted with laughter, jarringly loud in the quiet living room. "The files are on the study desk. I saw them just now."

Ethan stood still. The love that once suffocated him had suddenly vanished, replaced by a sense of detachment he couldn't control. This discrepancy made him uncomfortable, even more so than my constant nagging.

He stared at me deeply, as if trying to find a flaw in my calm face. But I just stared at the TV screen, laughing even more exaggeratedly than the show's guests, my fingernails digging deeply into my palms, using the pain to stay clear-headed.

Finally, he said nothing, turning and entering the study.

When he came out with the files, he paused by me and curtly remarked, "Eat less of that junk food."

The moment the door closed, I finally couldn't hold it in. I rushed to the bathroom and violently vomited into the toilet.

The pizza and pills I'd swallowed mixed with stomach acid spilled everywhere.

My stomach felt like it was on fire, and tears streamed uncontrollably down my face.