Chapter 4

I didn't cry when a surgery failed, nor when I lost my child.

It was Ethan who slowly, painstakingly, chipped away at that protective shell.

He spent twenty years making me believe I could also be cherished.

But it was also him who turned me back into a maniac.

I pushed myself up, opened the door, and walked out.

It's okay. I only have myself, and that's enough.

Back at my desk, the whispers around me were constant, but I didn't listen.

On my desk lay the approved wedding leave form and an application for an overseas assignment.

Two months ago, my Head of Department had discussed it with me, saying it was a great opportunity, and I'd be promoted to Deputy Head upon my return.

When I told Ethan the news, he smiled.

"Sophie Miller, I support all your decisions."

He pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on my head.

"No matter how far you go, I'll always wait for you, always follow you."

I couldn't bear to leave Ethan, couldn't bear to let down his years of waiting.

So, I submitted the wedding leave form. My Head of Department, though reluctant, approved it.

"You two have been together for ten years. Choosing marriage over an overseas assignment is a good decision. I hope he doesn't let you down."

Now, his words had become a cruel prophecy.

I tore up the approved form and threw it into the trash can.

Slowly, deliberately, I filled out the deployment application form.

The moment I finished, I suddenly felt like I could finally breathe.

Chloe's laptop was still there. I clicked on her SnapChat, taking screenshots of everything.

Her feed was full of posts:

Photos of her and Ethan in the snow, hands intertwined at the movie theater, lavish dinners at couple's restaurants...

Every single post was hidden from me.

Mutual friends in the comments section were egging them on.

"OMG, you two are so cute! Just get married already!"

"Ethan's such a legend, even when his fiancée's cold to him, he's got a girlfriend to comfort him!"

"Wonder what Sophie's reaction will be. She's always so serious, I'd love to see her cry!"

So everyone knew. Only I was just a fool, completely in the dark.

Made a fool of, a complete joke to everyone.

It was past midnight when I returned to the apartment Ethan and I shared.

I pulled out a suitcase and started packing.

Once I finished, I grabbed my phone and called a real estate agent, intending to sell our wedding home.

"Okay, ma'am, is the property title in your name?"

"Yes."

When we moved in, Ethan said he'd only put my name on the title, so I'd always feel secure.

I pulled the property title from the drawer and opened it. My hand froze.

The owner's name, at some point, had been changed to Chloe Taylor.

Even our wedding home, he'd given to her.

"Ms. Miller, are you in a rush to sell?"

It took me a long time to respond, my voice hoarse, like sandpaper.

"Sorry, I'm not selling anymore."

I hung up, stuffed the last few items of clothing into my suitcase.

Zipped it up, stood, and looked around.

I'd lived in this apartment for three years.

I picked out the sofa, chose the curtains, and Ethan had custom-ordered the painting on the wall from overseas.

He said, "When we get married, this wall will be covered with our photos."

The photo of us was still hanging there.

He had his arm around me, his eyes crinkled in a smile.

It was taken three years ago, on the first day we moved in.

He'd been so excited, spinning me around: "Sophie Miller, from today on, we have a home!"

I'd lived here for three years.

In the end, not a single brick in this place was truly mine.

I reached up and took down the photo frame.

Opened it, pulled out the photo.

On the back was a line of his handwriting:

"No matter how long it takes, I'll wait for you. – Ethan Carter"

I threw the photo into the trash can.

Dragging my suitcase, I closed the door.

A few days later.

My overseas assignment was approved: London.

Ethan sent a SnapChat message:

[Sophie Miller, Chloe's pregnant, I have to take responsibility. I'm giving the marriage certificate to Chloe, but the wedding can still go on as planned. I won't go back on my word; I'll still give you the most magnificent wedding.]

I stared at that message for a long time.

He wanted me to be his mistress, and Chloe his wife?

How laughable.

I didn't reply. I opened my laptop and exported all those photos.

One by one, I packaged and printed them.

Recipient addresses: The school where Chloe taught, the Carter family residence, Carter Industries.

Having done everything, I picked up my suitcase and headed straight for the airport.

Before boarding, my phone suddenly vibrated.

Messages flooded in like a broken dam.