Chapter 1

Two kids in my class got into an argument and started fighting.

I got pushed to the ground by one of them.

I had no choice but to call both children's parents in.

After the two mothers arrived, things got even more heated.

Clutching my aching stomach, I called my boyfriend and asked him to come pick me up.

The call was quickly disconnected.

Then he sent me a text: "In a company meeting. We'll talk tonight."

One of the boys' mothers also called her husband.

Ten minutes later, her husband rushed over.

He pulled that mother into his arms and gently comforted her:

"Baby, don't be upset. I'll handle this."

The next second, he looked up.

Our eyes met, and I nearly collapsed.

This man was none other than Ethan Rivers—the man I'd been dating for eight years.

Ethan stared at me for a few seconds, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes.

I'd been too weak from the pain before, but in that moment I was so shocked I forgot about the agony.

Ethan lowered his head and asked the woman in his arms, "What happened?"

The woman quickly explained the situation. After hearing her out with a frown, Ethan efficiently called in a lawyer and even contacted the police. A whole crowd of people arrived.

My gaze fixed on Ethan at the center of the group. I watched him comfort the mother and son in his arms, watched him handle the trouble with swift decisiveness.

His eyes occasionally landed on me, only to quickly look away.

Before long, the other parent was defeated and left with their child, utterly humiliated.

The boy's mother's tears turned to laughter. She stood on tiptoe, cupped Ethan's face, and kissed his cheek. "Thank you! You always drop everything to save me!"

Ethan naturally wrapped his arm around her waist. "I promised when I married you that I'd take care of you for life."

The little boy also hugged Ethan's leg, calling him the best dad.

My lips turned pale, my fingers trembling slightly.

A thousand questions stuck in my throat, but seeing this happy family of three before me, I swallowed them all down—like swallowing shards of glass, tearing me up inside and making me bleed.

Just then, the boy's mother came over with her child's hand in hers and said to me, "Sorry for causing you trouble, Teacher. My son pushed you earlier too, right? To apologize, my husband and I would like to take you out for a meal."

I instinctively looked at Ethan. He frowned as our eyes met and gently shook his head.

I looked at him, my voice hoarse. "Sure."

Ethan's brow furrowed instantly, but I turned my head away.

The boy's mother came over and took my hand, then smiled. "I'm young, so my husband treats me like his second child. Whenever either of us has problems, we only turn to him."

I nodded bitterly, thinking about how during our eight years together, knowing how busy he was building his business from nothing, I never dared trouble him with anything big or small.

When I taught at the school and was trapped in the office by unreasonable parents hurling abuse, I could only bow and apologize to the parents and children over and over. When gastritis struck late at night while I was writing lesson plans, I went to get an IV alone. When I moved, I carried all my luggage up to the sixth floor by myself, just wanting to set up our first home together after we started living together.

These memories never made me feel bitter because I thought he was working hard for our future.

But now, at this moment, it all seemed like a joke.

The boy's mother made a restaurant reservation and pulled me to the garage. I'd never seen Ethan drive the car in front of us.

Before getting in, she realized she'd forgotten the child's backpack and turned back to get it.

I stood beside the car, my stomach still hurting badly. I held onto the car door to steady myself.

I looked up and saw Ethan's anxious face. He urgently asked me, "What's wrong?"

I pushed him away, but then his son called out "Dad."

He immediately let go and, after glancing at me, turned and got in the car.