Chapter 1

When Ethan came home after his night shift, I set his favorite pasta on the table.

I wanted to tell him that my mom had finally agreed to let us get married.

But he tossed his car keys on the table and said wearily, "I got married."

"What?" I was confused.

"I married one of the new nurses. She's pregnant. I have to take responsibility for her."

My voice trembled.

"Then what were these eight years I spent with you?"

Ethan looked up at me and actually smiled.

"As long as you're willing, we can still be family."

I didn't cry.

I just picked up that bowl of pasta, walked to the kitchen, and dumped it in the trash.

Ethan frowned.

"Sophia, I just worked an all-night shift. I hate it when you give me the silent treatment like this."

I turned to look at him.

"When did you two get the marriage license?"

He rubbed his temples.

"Yesterday at noon."

"Tara finished her night shift. City Hall wasn't busy, so we just stopped by."

Just stopped by.

Yesterday at noon, I was with my mom for her dialysis evaluation.

She lay in the hospital bed, gripping my hand, saying, "Sophia, I've thought it through. If you're really set on Ethan, then marry him."

I almost cried right then and immediately sent Ethan a message:

"My mom agreed to let us get married."

He didn't reply.

Turns out he was at City Hall taking wedding photos with another woman.

I asked, "Does she know about me?"

Ethan was silent for two seconds.

"Yes. She doesn't mind. She's young and insecure. She cried and said she didn't want a wedding ceremony, just wanted to legally stand by my side."

I laughed.

"Then after eight years with you, where am I supposed to stand?"

Ethan looked up at me.

"Sophia, you haven't lost out these eight years. You've been living in my house rent-free."

I finally understood.

His so-called compensation was letting me continue living here.

Continue cleaning up after him, continue taking care of him.

Just with my status changed from girlfriend to housekeeper.

I went into the bedroom to pack my things. When I opened the closet, my hand froze.

There was a row of unfamiliar women's clothes inside.

Pink sweaters, dresses, a nurse's jacket.

In the shoe cabinet was a pair of white sneakers.

On the bathroom counter was a new bottle of face wash.

On the nightstand was a thin hair tie.

I picked it up and asked him, "She's moving in?"

Ethan stood in the doorway and said:

"Tara can't sleep alone in the dorm."

"So she's sleeping in my bed from now on?"

I took off the ring he'd given me and placed it on the table.

It was a silver ring he'd bought the year he finished his hospital internship.

He said once he became a doctor, he'd replace it with a diamond ring.

Later, when he became a doctor, he said he'd buy me a ring after he bought a house.

But now, he was married.

I pulled out my suitcase.

Ethan suddenly panicked.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind.

"Sophia, I don't want to lose you. I'm just settling Tara in first. She can't live without me. You're different. You're mature. You understand me."

Being held by him, I only felt nauseous.

The doorbell rang.

Tara stood at the door, her face small, her eyes red.

She was wearing a men's jacket.

The one I'd waited in line for two hours to buy for Ethan last winter.

"Ethan, I came to get my marriage certificate."

Then she looked at me and smiled. "Sophia, you're here too."

I said nothing.

She walked straight into the bedroom like she owned the place and opened my nightstand drawer.

The marriage certificate was pressed under an old photo album.

On top of the album was a letter.

A letter my mom had written to Ethan.

She'd just finished writing it yesterday and asked me to deliver it.

The first line on the paper read:

"Ethan, I'm entrusting Sophia to you from now on."

Tara picked up the letter and blinked.

"Is this from your mom to you two? Sorry, should I not be reading this?"

I reached out to take it.

But Ethan grabbed it first.

A corner of the paper tore.

I watched him standing protectively in front of Tara and suddenly felt like this house was very unfamiliar.

I'd lived here for five years.

But now standing here, I felt like an outsider.