Chapter 3

Before Yvonne could say another word, Ethan had already lunged forward and dragged me out into the hallway.

"Go home. I'll be there soon." His voice dropped to a warning growl. "Don't make me regret this, Rachel."

I grabbed his arm, dazed. "Was it Dada?"

His body went rigid for just a fraction of a second — and I felt every bit of it through my palm.

He shoved me off in silence, then impatiently kicked the box of ashes across the floor toward me with his foot.

"Stop making a scene."

The door slammed in my face.

The smell of roasting meat drifted out from inside. I doubled over and dry-heaved against the wall.

I sank to my knees on the floor and carefully placed Dada's head back into the box.

The Call duck who used to nuzzle me with her soft white feathers was now someone's dinner.

The man who had promised me forever had built himself a second life.

I felt completely hollowed out. I sent Ethan a message.

"I want a divorce."

I went home and pulled out my suitcase, quietly packing up my things.

Everywhere I looked, I saw memories — me, Ethan, and Dada.

I packed all of Dada's belongings too. Before long, another woman would move in here, and everything left behind would just get thrown away.

The front door rattled. A familiar set of footsteps.

Ethan stopped in front of me and placed his hand over mine, stilling my packing.

"Rachel, don't act like a child throwing a tantrum."

I looked down. A single tear slipped off my face and landed on his hand.

He went still. I looked up and wiped my eyes.

Before we got married, my friends always said that once you tied the knot, you had to grow up — you couldn't be spoiled or needy anymore.

But Ethan always pushed back on that immediately.

"I'll treat her like a princess for the rest of her life."

I let out a short, bitter laugh and pushed his hand away.

"Go take care of your girlfriend then, Ethan."

I picked up my suitcase. Near the door, he grabbed my shoulder.

"Rachel, I'm doing this for us. Everyone we know already has kids. Don't you want a family?"

His voice was earnest. "Once Yvonne has the baby, I'll pay her off and walk away. You'll raise the child. You'll be the only mother it ever knows."

I was speechless. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Seeing that I'd gone quiet, he pressed on. "Rachel, you're the only one I love. Haven't I always taken care of you?"

Just a few minutes ago, I'd been looking at Yvonne's Instagram in the building's community group chat.

On my birthday, Ethan had claimed he was out of town on business. He sent me a necklace worth hundreds of thousands of dollars instead. Everyone thought it was so romantic.

But that same day, he'd bought Yvonne a $5 million apartment and spent the night with her.

The day I was in my car accident, he ran every red light to get to the hospital. Everyone said that proved how deeply he loved me.

But right before he'd gotten that call, he'd been in a hotel room with Yvonne — a year into trying to get her pregnant.

Hadn't he been good to me?

He had. But he'd been even better to Yvonne.

Maybe his kindness to me was nothing more than guilt for what he was doing behind my back.

My voice came out hoarse. "I'm the one who took away your chance to be a father. I'm sorry. Is that enough? I want a divorce."

Ethan tightened his grip on my shoulder. His patience was running out.

"So what do you want me to do? Tell Yvonne to get rid of the baby? You can't have children, so you think nobody else should give me one? Rachel, don't be selfish."

His words cut right through me. My legs nearly gave out.

After we got married, Ethan's parents had somehow found out that I had difficulty conceiving.

They raged at me for failing to provide an heir. Ethan knelt in the rain all night to stand up for me. He begged them to accept me.