Chapter 4

Ethan's face drained of color in an instant.

He lunged forward, grabbing my wrists with desperate force, terrified that I was about to slip away.

"Chloe, let me explain! That—that was an accident!"

An accident?

The word bounced around in my head, sounding utterly ridiculous.

"Ethan, the night I miscarried... where were you?"

His entire body turned to stone.

"What? Miscarriage...?"

Watching the sheer shock written across his face only made me feel sick with irony.

My tone stayed deadly calm, light as air:

"That night you were supposed to be having an episode, supposedly unconscious in our bed."

"I was home alone and took a bad fall down the stairs."

"Just like that, our baby was gone. Slipped away before I could even hold onto it."

Every syllable fell softly, carrying zero dramatics, but each word drove like a dagger straight into his chest.

All the color vanished from Ethan's face, his pupils shrinking in horror.

Panic wrecked his composure, his breathing ragged as his trembling hands clamped onto my wrists.

"What... what are you talking about?! When did this happen?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

I shoved his hands off me.

"Because lying to me is the only thing you ever cared about."

Ethan lunged again, pulling me tight against his chest, refusing to let go.

"No, Chloe, please listen to me! I never wanted to hurt you, I swear—"

Tears spilled over my cheeks against my will.

I stood completely numb in his tight grip, offering him not an ounce of warmth or reaction.

A sudden, sharp ringtone shattered the silence.

His phone buzzed aggressively, call after call demanding an answer.

Ethan loosened his grip.

I glanced down and caught the caller ID: Maya.

The second the call connected, Maya's tearful wail cut through the receiver:

"Ethan, my stomach hurts so bad... Please come back, our baby..."

The line clicked dead.

Looking at the sheer terror written across his features, every trace of his remorse from seconds ago evaporated into thin air.

"Maya's pregnant, Chloe. I—I have to make sure nothing happens to her."

That was the moment I knew for certain.

This man was gone. He didn't belong to me, and he never would again.

He didn't give a damn about me. Maybe he never had.

"Go," I said coldly, my expression blank.

"Wait for me to get back. I'll explain everything, I promise!"

Before I could even speak, he turned and bolted out the front door.

That desperate, panicked look on his face was something I hadn't seen directed at me in years.

My phone screen lit up on the nightstand.

I looked down. My corporate relocation request to the London branch had been officially approved.

My flight was tomorrow morning.

An explanation wasn't necessary.

I knew deep down we would never see each other again.

Three days after I left.

On his way home, Ethan drove all the way across town just to pick up a box of artisanal donuts from my favorite bakery.

The line at that shop always took forever.

Whenever we got into an argument, no matter how bad things turned, the moment he walked in with that signature pink box, I would always soften up and forgive him.

He was counting on it working this time, too.

When he stepped through the front door, the entryway was pitch-black.

In the past, no matter how late he stayed out, I always left a warm porch light on for him.

Ethan frowned.

"Chloe?"

The silence inside the apartment was deafening.

An uneasy knot tightened in his gut, sparking a sudden wave of irritation.

Tossing the box of donuts onto the kitchen counter, he marched toward the master bedroom.

He shoved the door open, and his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.

Half of the closet was completely cleared out.

The skincare bottles on the vanity were gone.

Left behind on the dresser was a document weighted down by a single diamond wedding band.

It was an executed divorce agreement.

My signature was already inked neatly at the bottom.

Ethan's fingers violently jerked, and the papers slipped from his grasp, fluttering onto the floor.

"No way... This can't be happening..."