Chapter 3

Sera Hayes' POV

Twelve days left until I leave.

Since the argument at the bridal salon, Ethan hadn't returned to the villa for three days straight. Each day, he'd send messages explaining that Lana's condition was very bad, and he was at the hospital nursing her.

I didn't reply to any of them. I spent every day packing, little by little, the things that belonged to me. There wasn't much, really.

The villa was filled with luxury items, jewelry, and designer gowns Ethan had bought for me, but I didn't plan to take any of them.

I only took a few old clothes and my design sketches.

On the fourth afternoon, Ethan finally returned.

His eyes were bloodshot, stubble dotted his chin, and he looked utterly exhausted.

The moment he stepped inside, he hugged me tightly, with such force it felt like he wanted to knead me into his body.

"Sera, I'm sorry for neglecting you these past few days." His voice was hoarse, filled with deep apology. "Lana's condition has finally stabilized, and I've come straight back to be with you."

I let him hold me, my hands hanging naturally at my sides, not embracing him as I used to.

"It's okay," I said faintly.

Ethan sensed my coldness. He released me, pulling a delicate velvet box from his pocket. He opened it, revealing a dazzling sapphire necklace.

"This is 'Tears of the Deep Sea,' I bought it at auction. Didn't you say you liked it before? It's for you. Please don't be mad at me, okay?" He looked at me pleadingly.

I gazed at the expensive necklace, my heart unmoved. Before, if I casually mentioned liking something, he would remember it. But now, that thoughtfulness was just a tool to alleviate his guilt.

"Thank you, it's beautiful." I didn't take it. I just turned and walked into the kitchen. "You haven't eaten, have you? I'll make you some pasta."

Ethan watched my calm back, his uneasiness growing. He would have preferred me to yell at him than to see me so indifferent.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Ethan frowned and walked to open the door. Standing outside was Lana.

She wore a white dress with a loose knit cardigan over it, looking quite pitiful. Seeing Ethan, her eyes lit up, then she shyly lowered her head. "Ethan, I... am I interrupting you?"

"Why are you here?" Ethan's face darkened. He instinctively blocked the doorway, not wanting her to see me inside.

"I heard your mother say you have a villa in the suburbs with a large glass conservatory built behind it, filled with blue roses." Lana looked up, her eyes full of anticipation. "The doctor said I need a quiet, beautiful place to recuperate. Ethan, can I stay here for a while?"

Ethan's body stiffened abruptly.

That glass conservatory, he built it for me with his own hands. I loved blue roses, so he had the most expensive varieties flown in from abroad and planted them himself. His hands had been pricked and bleeding because of those flowers. It was our most secret, most precious sanctuary.

"No," Ethan refused without hesitation. "This place isn't suitable for you. I'll arrange the best sanatorium for you in the city center."

"But I only like it here..." Lana's eyes instantly reddened, tears welling up. "Ethan, are you tired of me? I know I was in a coma for five years, I'm useless, but I only have you..."

As she spoke, she clutched her chest, gasping for air, her face rapidly turning pale.

"Lana!" Ethan was startled and quickly supported her.

I quietly watched the two entangled figures outside the door.

Lana leaned into Ethan's embrace, and over his shoulder, she shot me a provocative glance, then weakly said, "Ethan, I really love that conservatory... just let me stay for a few days, okay?"

Ethan looked at the barely conscious Lana in his arms, then at me. I imagined he was in agonizing struggle.

"Sera..." he began with difficulty, his voice pleading. "Lana's illness can't handle any shock. That conservatory... could you lend it to her for a few days? I promise, once she's better, I'll have her move out immediately."

I looked at Ethan and suddenly found it somewhat amusing. Lend? It was a gift he gave me, a testament to our love. Now, for another woman, he was willing to destroy that testament with his own hands.

"Whatever you want," I said, placing the pasta on the dining table, then turning and walking upstairs. "Anyway, those flowers are almost withered."

The next day, Ethan called in workers.

Because Lana claimed she was allergic to pollen but liked the sunlight in the glass conservatory, Ethan ordered all the blue roses in the conservatory to be pulled out.

I stood on the second-floor balcony, watching the workers roughly uproot those delicate blue roses and toss them into the trash. The ground was covered in fallen petals, much like my utterly ruined marriage of three years.

Ethan came up behind me and hugged me, burying his head in the crook of my neck, his voice heavy. "Sera, don't watch. Once Lana leaves, I'll build you an even bigger and better conservatory, filled with all the flowers you love, okay?"

I didn't struggle. I just looked downstairs and said softly, "Ethan, flowers that have been pulled out cannot be replanted."

Ethan's heart sank abruptly, an inexplicable panic seizing him. He tightened his arms, trying to draw some sense of security from me. "Yes, they can. As long as we're together, anything can start anew."

I closed my eyes and said nothing more.

Start anew? No, Ethan. Ten more days, and we'll be completely over.