Chapter 2

[Beep. Fingerprint verification successful.]

"Ethan, why can Yvonne unlock our front door?"

I tossed my bag onto the shoe bench, staring at the green light on the lock.

Inside the bag was my premature ovarian failure diagnosis.

Ethan sat on the carpet looking at his phone, not raising his head.

"The showerhead in her studio apartment broke. She's borrowing the bathroom today. I added her fingerprint for convenience so she doesn't have to knock every time."

His tone was casual, seeing nothing wrong with it, not even needing my consent.

When we first moved in, Ethan had set my fingerprint as the sole administrator.

He said I had the highest authority and could kick him out at any time.

Now he'd shared that authority with someone else.

The old Ethan was territorial.

He refused to add the cleaning lady's fingerprint, preferring to clean himself on weekends.

He said home was a restricted zone that outsiders couldn't enter.

Now the door was wide open for Yvonne.

I looked at the pink slippers by the entrance. They were on Yvonne's feet.

Five years ago that winter, Ethan had run across half the city to buy them.

He knelt on one knee to help me put them on, saying my feet got cold in winter and I could only wear this type.

Now those slippers were on someone else's feet.

I looked at the frosted bathroom door. "That's a personal towel. I find it dirty."

Ethan looked up and frowned.

"Don't assume the worst about people. She just graduated and doesn't know about these things."

"Her parents were injured saving me. Taking care of her is my duty."

"You should be more generous and help me take care of her!"

The bathroom door opened. Yvonne emerged wearing my black camisole under Ethan's bathrobe.

I pressed my aching abdomen. "Then why is she wearing my nightgown?"

Ethan glared at me.

"Enough! Don't be excessive!"

He turned, his eyes gentle as he walked toward Yvonne.

The old Ethan had a cleanliness obsession.

When a female intern brushed against his coat in the elevator, he took it off on the spot and threw it in the trash.

He said his clothes should only carry his wife's scent.

Now he draped his bathrobe over Yvonne and allowed her to wear my underwear.

Ethan stood up and took the towel from Yvonne's hands.

"Her clothes got wet. I just grabbed something. Be more generous and don't fixate on small things."

He helped Yvonne dry her hair with gentle movements.

Before, after every hair wash, he'd use the hairdryer to dry mine, afraid I'd catch cold.

"I'll dry your hair for the rest of my life!"

Now that treatment went to someone else.

"Ethan, is this the business partner you mentioned?"

Yvonne tilted her head and smiled at me.

Five years of secret marriage. I bore him a son and suffered chronic illness, yet in his mouth I was just a business partner.

Ethan paused.

"Yeah. She's usually busy. Ask her if you don't understand anything."

He pulled me aside, his tone carrying a warning.

"Yvonne thinks you're my startup partner. She has low self-esteem. If she knew I was married, she'd feel guilty and refuse my support."

"Be more understanding and help me build a relationship with her so she feels secure."

I laughed. "Build a relationship? Do you need me to make the bed for you two?"

Yvonne retreated half a step behind Ethan.

"Does Lily hate me? Ethan, I'll leave. Don't let me affect your relationship."

She reached to untie the bathrobe sash.

Ethan grabbed her wrist and looked at me.

"You sleep in the guest room tonight. Yvonne will be more comfortable in the master bedroom."