Chapter 2

The next day, Ethan and I were supposed to meet to discuss my dad's appeal.

I waited outside his office for three agonizing hours.

Finally, his secretary walked out with a conflicted expression.

"Mrs. Vance, Mr. Vance is tied up with something urgent and won't be back for a while. Maybe you should..."

Holding a stack of evidence half my height, all the strength drained from my body.

The papers slipped from my hands, scattering all over the floor.

The statute of limitations for my dad's case was expiring in just three days.

I got down on my knees, desperately scraping the papers together. Just then, my phone buzzed with a notification. It was Chloe's Instagram story.

The background was a veterinary clinic. Ethan was right beside her, helping her deworm Peaches.

[I told him I could handle this alone, but he insisted on skipping work to be with me. Is this what it feels like to be cherished?

Last year, when my appendix ruptured, Ethan refused to set foot in the hospital.

He had simply messaged me: "I hate the smell of disinfectants."

My fingers gripped the phone so hard they turned white.

I tried calling other lawyers, but they all politely turned me down.

"Mr. Vance made it clear that since you're his wife, helping you would be seen as a personal favor, which would compromise our professional ethics..."

I carried the heavy files I had spent sleepless nights preparing and walked all the way home through the freezing wind.

It was evening by the time Ethan finally returned.

I was sitting on the sofa.

"You promised to fulfill my condition. Help me appeal my dad's case."

Ethan took off his coat and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.

"Even if he was framed, the prosecutor's evidence is airtight. Even if it's fabricated, it's flawless."

"Besides, I've been drowning in work lately. Can you at least give me some breathing room?"

The words caught in my throat like a shard of glass.

Just minutes ago, I had stumbled upon a new joint pet account he had created with Chloe.

The videos showed them riding bikes with Peaches by the lake, watching the sunset together.

The comment section was filled with adoration.

[Ethan looks so happy here! Unlike in those old videos where he looked so miserable. Now this is a real couple!]

[The previous account felt like a business partnership. So fake.]

[They look so good together! I'm glad he cut ties with that old influencer.]

...

He didn't look like a man "drowning in work."

I slammed the heavy stack of files onto the coffee table.

Swallowing the bitterness in my throat, I said, "You can focus on your work for the next two days."

"Just show up at the courthouse the day after tomorrow."

His rejection was instantaneous and cold.

"I can't make it the day after tomorrow. It's Chloe's birthday."

Before I could argue, he added, "Tomorrow doesn't work either. Chloe and I are shooting a video, and I need to write the script tonight."

Tears finally spilled over. "My dad can't wait! He has a severe heart condition!"

Ethan closed his eyes, exhaling a sigh of utter exasperation.

"Stella, I'm going to be blunt."

"Your dad's case is just a financial dispute. He'll be out in a few years anyway. There's no need to waste our time on this."

I stared at him in absolute disbelief. I couldn't believe those words had come out of his mouth.

Before I could speak, his phone rang.

He answered it, and his expression instantly twisted into panic.

"What? Your gastritis is acting up again?"

"Hold on, I'm on my way."

Ethan spun around to leave, but I grabbed the edge of his coat.

"Ethan, I need to tell you... I'm preg—"

In the next second, he violently shook me off.

"We'll talk tomorrow! Chloe is in so much pain she can't even speak. It's an emergency!"

He slammed the door shut without looking back.

My stomach slammed hard against the sharp corner of the coffee table.

A searing pain shot through me, and a dark, warm wetness began to spread across my pants.

It was blood. Blinding, crimson blood.

"Ethan..."

My cry for help was cut short as the heavy front door slammed shut, echoing through the empty house.