Chapter 5

Elara Vance POV

Muffled thunder rolled through the dark clouds, and the basement felt cold and damp.

I'd been writing for two straight days and finally decided to stop and rest.

Rubbing my throbbing head, I walked out, intending to make myself a cup of coffee to wake up, only to find a sticky note on the coffee machine.

"I have an urgent errand. Could you please look after Leo for me?"

The handwriting was sharp, just like Ethan.

Beside the coffee machine was a pre-made sandwich.

I frowned, glancing at Leo playing with toys in the living room, and casually tossed the note into the trash.

Why did Ethan think I'd look after his child with another woman?

After finishing my coffee, I was about to go back for a nap when Leo suddenly ran over, pulling my hand to sit on the sofa.

"Ms. Vance, play with me!"

The soft, warm touch on my palm made me stiffen.

Before I could react, the child added, "Your hands are as pretty as Mom's."

Hearing him mention that woman I'd never met, I felt uncomfortable, yet couldn't help but probe into Ethan's other marriage.

"Does your dad... love your mom very much?"

Leo nodded, his eyes sparkling.

"Dad loves Mom the most!"

"I'll tell you a secret: once, when Mom was sick, I saw Dad cry. He said big boys don't cry, but he cried even uglier than I do when I get a shot."

"And then..."

The child chattered on, and as he spoke, my mind conjured images of Ethan and a gentle, beautiful woman sharing a happy life in what used to be *our* home.

It was almost subconscious, but my previously agitated heart found a sliver of comfort.

Yet, when I came back to my senses, I felt only sorrow and absurdity.

I was so deeply in love with a man that I could overlook his betrayal and still feel comforted by his stable, happy life...

Leo soon got tired and fell asleep right on the rug.

I looked at his innocent sleeping face, sighed deeply, and covered him with a blanket.

Night deepened.

It was already 11:30 PM. After sending the draft I'd finished to my publisher's editor, I dragged my tired body upstairs.

The living room was quiet, lit by the dim light of a floor lamp.

As I reached the kitchen counter, I felt a nerve in my brain suddenly twitch violently, and I collapsed to the floor.

My face went ashen, and I instinctively pounded my throbbing head.

But the next second, a pair of strong hands lifted me, and the familiar minty scent brought a moment of clarity.

"Are you alright?"

His voice seemed to vibrate from his chest, a slight tremor that left me momentarily disoriented.

When I regained my senses, I realized Ethan had placed me on the sofa.

The faint night light illuminated his deep eyes and the subtle worry within them.

But Leo's words, "Dad loves Mom the most," echoed in my ears.

My heart tightened, and I immediately pulled away. "Thanks..."

Facing my distance, Ethan's gaze darkened. "Do you always have to be so strong?"

Hearing that, I smiled bitterly to myself.

If I hadn't been strong, the four years of agonizing illness, the pain of being abandoned and betrayed by my loved one, would have crushed me long ago.

But I was too tired to argue, so I changed the subject. "How long will Leo's treatment take?"

Ethan got up and poured me a cup of hot water. "If all goes well, a month."

He paused, then asked, "What about you? How long do you plan to stay here?"

I suppressed the stabbing pain in my head. "...I don't know. Maybe once I finish this novel, I'll move somewhere else."

Suddenly, both of us fell silent.

My fingertips traced the warm rim of the cup, trying to break the stiff atmosphere, when I suddenly heard Ethan say, "Once Leo's well, I'm going to quit my job."

I looked up in surprise, meeting his steady gaze.

We grew up together. I had witnessed all the efforts Ethan made to become a police officer. It wasn't an exaggeration to say it was his life's passion.

My voice felt dry. "Being a cop was your childhood dream. Why..."

"Weren't you also determined to be a fairy tale author since childhood? Why did you switch to writing horror novels?"

Faced with Ethan's counter-question, I was speechless.

He looked at me. "I've given a lot for my ideals. The rest of my life, I want to dedicate to the person I love. I want to protect her."

Bitterness climbed into my nose, warming my eyes.

I used to worry sick about Ethan, but even when he loved me so deeply, he never gave up his passion.

It just meant he'd found a woman who could truly make him give up everything.

I lowered my eyes, hiding my bitterness. "You should get some rest. I want to be alone for a while."

Ethan looked like he wanted to say more, but just offered a "Goodnight" and went upstairs.

The wind, laden with snowflakes, gently tapped against the French windows. I sat alone for a long time.

Suddenly, my phone rang. It was my editor.

I took a deep breath and answered. "Does the draft need revisions?"

My editor's voice was excited. "No revisions, no revisions! Elara, I just wanted to ask when you plan to finish it?"

I pursed my lips. "A month."

The other end was silent for a moment. "Don't you still have nearly 700,000 words remaining? Will you make it?"

I looked towards the upstairs hallway, my eyes dark. "That'll be enough."

A month was enough to finish my novel and my past.