Chapter 3

Natalie's POV

The day Aria Sinclair moved in, light rain was falling.

Ethan personally drove to pick her up.

When they walked into the villa side by side, I was sitting on the living room sofa proofreading a German translation manuscript.

Aria Sinclair was indeed beautiful. The kind of beauty that carried a delicate fragility favored by time.

Her eyes were almost identical to mine.

Aria's gaze was like a pool of spring water, capable of drowning anyone at any moment.

"Ethan, this must be Miss Sullivan?"

Seeing me, Aria smiled faintly, her expression carrying a subtle appraisal and an air of superiority.

She called me Miss Sullivan, not Mrs. Foster.

Ethan didn't correct her. He simply gave a light "Mm," then turned to Aria with a voice so gentle it could drip honey.

"The room's been decorated according to your preferences. Go upstairs and see if you like it. Tell me directly if anything's missing."

Watching this scene, I felt nothing but irony.

For three years, Ethan had been this gentle with me too.

But only today did I understand. When he looked at me tenderly, he was never seeing me. He was looking at another woman's shadow through my eyes.

At dinner, the atmosphere at the table was bizarrely tense.

Ethan seemed to have forgotten my existence, all his attention on Aria Sinclair.

"Aria, try this. I had the chef make it specially. It used to be your favorite."

Aria smiled shyly.

"Thank you, Ethan. You still remember my tastes."

Then she turned to look at me with feigned surprise.

"Why isn't Miss Sullivan eating? Is the food not to your liking?"

I looked at the dishes I didn't like before me, my stomach cramping.

I'm severely allergic to cilantro. Even a little bit makes my whole body break out in red welts, and I can have difficulty breathing.

In three years of marriage, Ethan had never allowed a single sprig of cilantro on our table.

But today, to cater to Aria's tastes, nearly every dish on the table contained cilantro.

"I'm not hungry." I said.

Only then did Ethan glance at me, his brow furrowing.

"Eat something even if you're not hungry. Don't sit there with that cold face. Aria just arrived, and as the lady of the house, don't you have even this much grace?"

Grace?

I laughed coldly inside.

He brought his first love brazenly into our home, took over my studio, and now wanted me to smile graciously?

"I said I'm not hungry."

I stood up, meeting Ethan's gaze without backing down.

"You two enjoy."

I turned to leave, but Aria suddenly teared up, pulling on Ethan's sleeve pitifully.

"Ethan, am I making Miss Sullivan unhappy by being here? Maybe I should move out. I don't want to damage your relationship..."

"Sit down."

Ethan grasped Aria's hand reassuringly, then whipped his head toward me, his eyes sharp as knives.

"Natalie, apologize to Aria!"

My footsteps halted. I turned back, looking at him in disbelief.

"What did you say?"

"I said apologize!"

Ethan's voice rose several notches, carrying undeniable authority.

"Aria is a guest. What kind of hospitality is this?"

I looked at Ethan's face. The one I'd once been so infatuated with. Now finding it terrifyingly unfamiliar.

I didn't cry or make a scene. I just looked at him quietly.

"I did nothing wrong. I will never apologize."

With that, I went upstairs without looking back.

Behind me, Ethan's voice came, suppressing fury.

"Natalie, don't be ungrateful!"

I closed the bedroom door, shutting out all the noise.

I leaned against the door and slowly slid to the floor.

The torn hole in my heart was howling as bone-chilling wind poured through.

Ethan Foster, just how cruel is your heart?