Chapter 3

Seven thirty in the evening.

My phone screen abruptly lit up, displaying "Serena."

In the previous ninety-nine loops, this call was my nightmare. Each time it connected, it was her silent boasting, or a snippet of Ethan's voice beside her, enough to shatter my pathetic self-esteem.

I wiped the residue from my mouth, calmly pressed the answer button, and put the call on speaker, tossing my phone onto the coffee table.

"Hello? Is that Scarlett?"

Serena's voice came through the receiver, carrying her characteristic sweet, fragile tone.

In the background, I could faintly hear elegant violin music and the soft clink of cutlery against ceramic plates. "Oh, I'm so sorry to bother you so late. Ethan just went to the restroom, and he left his phone with me. I saw you were calling and worried it might be urgent..."

The same old story. I hadn't called Ethan at all. This was her usual trick to make sure I knew he was with her.

If it were before, I would scream into the phone, demand to know why she had my husband's phone, and then cry like a madwoman.

But this time, I picked up a nail file and slowly, meticulously filed my nails, my voice light with amusement. "Oh, no urgent matter. Just wanted to remind you of something."

A noticeable pause on the other end. "Remind me of what?"

"Remind him to use protection."

I blew the dust from my nails, my tone as nonchalant as if discussing the weather. "You know, he's been out networking a lot lately and hasn't been too careful. I don't really care, since I have my full health report. But you, darling, just back in the country, you're delicate. It'd be a shame if you caught something nasty. After all, I still have my life to live."

A dead silence fell on the other end of the line.

Then, I heard Ethan's voice. He had clearly just returned and heard my shocking "advice."

"Scarlett! What nonsense are you spouting!" Ethan's roar came through the speaker, mixed with the sound of a chair being knocked over. He was obviously furious.

Serena seemed startled too, letting out a short gasp. "Ethan, darling..."

I chuckled softly, imagining Ethan's livid face at that moment. The satisfaction of shattering that elite mask he always wore, the one of a man in a high position, was actually more effective than any painkiller.

"What's wrong, Mr. Evans? Are you all talk and no action?" I said languidly into the phone. "Alright, I won't disturb your fun. Remember, safety first."

With that, I decisively hung up.

Almost simultaneously, the system in my mind let out a harsh crackle of static. "Warning! Warning! Male lead's emotional fluctuation value abnormally soaring! Plot deviation 30%... Detecting severe OOC (Out of Character) behavior from host... Recalculating... Calculation error."

I leaned back on the sofa, looking at the chandelier on the ceiling, a mocking smile curving my lips.

Emotional fluctuation? That was pure rage.

This was probably the first time he realized that Scarlett, who used to only revolve around him, worshipping him like a god, could also utter such humiliating words.

He'd probably think I was crazy.

And he'd be right.

For someone abandoned in the ending, what did it matter if I cried or laughed, was sane or mad?