Chapter 1

My sister Hazel was scammed out of all her money by a scumbag, and she came crying to stay at my place.

I helped her collect the debt and even gave her my year-end bonus for emergencies.

My boyfriend Ethan grew more and more impatient:

"Hazel isn't grateful at all! She maxed out your credit card, called you to pick her up drunk at 3 AM. Natalie, are you her mother? She deserves to be scammed by jerks like that."

For the first time, I threw a cup at him:

"Our mom died when she was only eight. I'm the one who raised her. So please, be nice to her."

Later, the company sent me on a business trip, and I still called her every day to help her get through the trauma.

Until two months later, I changed my flight and came home early.

I pushed open the bedroom door and saw her wearing my silk pajamas, leaning in Ethan's arms.

He picked up a strawberry and fed it to her, looking completely content.

The bedroom fell deathly silent in an instant.

Hazel was the first to react.

She sprang out of Ethan's arms, her lips trembling.

"Natalie? You—how are you back? Wasn't your flight the day after tomorrow..."

Ethan's hand froze in midair, strawberry juice dripping onto my silk sheets.

His face looked terrible, but he said nothing.

I stood in the doorway, still gripping my suitcase handle, my fingertips digging deep into my palm.

The air conditioning was clearly on, yet my back was covered in cold sweat.

Hazel forced out a smile that looked worse than crying.

"Natalie, you must be tired. Put down your luggage—"

She rushed toward me barefoot in a panic, accidentally hitting her knee on the bed frame. She gasped in pain, her eyes instantly reddening.

Ethan frowned and reached out to steady her.

"Slow down. You're so clumsy."

His tone carried reproach, but his hands were impossibly gentle.

I stared at the hand supporting her arm, my heart sinking to rock bottom.

"When did this start?"

My voice was calmer than I expected.

Hazel's whole body stiffened, and she instinctively looked up at Ethan.

He pulled her slightly behind him and finally looked at me directly.

"It has nothing to do with her. It's my fault."

Ethan was usually a man of few words, never showing his emotions.

I'd agreed to be with him because I valued his stability and reliability—he wouldn't make me feel insecure like those playboys.

The year my mom died, I was twelve and Hazel was only eight.

My dad couldn't handle the blow. He turned to alcohol, skipped work, was eventually fired, and died two years later.

From then on, I never relied on anyone again.

Ethan was the first person who made me feel that being taken care of wasn't a debt.

That I could be vulnerable too.

But now he stood across from me, protecting Hazel behind him, looking at me with the coldest eyes.

Like I was a stranger!

Hazel peeked out from behind him, her eyes red.

"Natalie, it's not what you think... We..."

"Got your excuse ready?"

I asked coldly.

"Go ahead then. If you're going to explain, make it clear. What's your relationship now? When did it start? How far have you gone?"

Hazel froze, tears immediately spilling over. She rubbed her eyes, sobbing pitifully.

I let out a dry laugh, not sure if I was laughing at her or at myself.

Ethan squeezed her hand and said gently:

"It's okay. Let me handle this. You put your shoes on first—the floor is cold."

Then he looked up at me.

"Natalie, let's talk outside."

"Ethan, this is my home."

My voice began to shake.

"You're telling me to leave?"

He fell silent for a few seconds, glancing back at Hazel.

She stood there with hunched shoulders, toes curled, like a frightened rabbit.

Ethan's voice immediately softened, carrying a note of pleading.

"She couldn't sleep until 4 AM last night. Let her rest first, okay?"

In three years together, I'd never seen Ethan beg anyone.

He was such a proud person—he never backed down in negotiations, never softened even when he offended people.

Now he was begging me for my sister!

Ethan picked up his jacket from the chair and turned to Hazel with gentle instructions.

"You rest. Don't wait up for me. There's milk in the fridge—remember to heat up a glass."

I turned and rushed out.

If I stayed any longer, I was afraid I'd cry in front of them.

Ethan stayed half a step behind me, eyes downcast, his expression unreadable.

When we reached the underground parking garage, he opened the car door for me.

I didn't move.

"Let's just talk here."

His hand paused, then he closed the door and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one.

The parking garage lights were dim, the cigarette's red glow flickering on and off.

"I made the first move."

He took a drag, his voice low and hoarse.

"Don't blame her. Hazel is your sister. You raised her—you know her best. She's timid, can't survive without someone. That guy she was with before scammed her completely clean. I just... worried about her."

He flicked ash onto the ground without looking at me.

"But you're different. Natalie, you're the most capable woman I've ever met. Even without me, you'll do just fine."

I stared at him, my nails digging into my palms.

"So what? Because I'm capable, I deserve to be treated like this by you two?"

I found it utterly absurd.

When Hazel first moved into my place, Ethan wouldn't even mention her name.

If he ran into her wandering the living room in pajamas, his brow would knot up, and he'd argue with me in hushed tones back in the bedroom.

Saying she had no sense of boundaries as an adult, saying our home wasn't a shelter.

Two months ago when I left on this business trip, I'd asked him to look after Hazel.

He stood at the airport departure level, hands in his pockets, his face cold the entire time.

"She's your sister, not my responsibility."

That was only two months ago.

Now he stood before me, using that face I knew so well to say the most foreign words.