Chapter 3

Evelyn's POV

After the auction ended, Ethan drove home with me.

He even held the car door open like always, leaned in, and buckled my seatbelt, as if everything that had happened in that hall was nothing more than a dream.

When we got back to the apartment, I stood at the entrance and didn't take my shoes off.

"What's wrong? Are you tired?"

Ethan shrugged off his jacket and tugged loose his tie. He walked over and reached for me out of habit, the way he always did.

"The painting, I already had it sent directly to the school."

I turned my head and stepped out of his reach.

"Serena's back, isn't she."

His arm fell to his side. A slight crease formed between his brows.

"Yes. She got back yesterday."

He moved to the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of ice water.

"Evelyn." His voice was measured. "You're smart. Don't make a scene over something like this."

"Something like this?"

I almost laughed.

"You put a three-hundred-million-dollar necklace around her neck in front of everyone and made me look like a joke. Ethan, you think that's just something like this?"

He turned to face me, his expression calm.

"That necklace is something she wanted seven years ago. She's very sick right now. Severe depression, serious PTSD. Her doctor says she's at risk of self-harm at any time. I bought it to stabilize her emotionally."

He crossed the room and placed both hands on my shoulders. There wasn't a trace of apology in his eyes.

"Evelyn, you've always been the kindest, most understanding person I know. You open your arms to children with severe disabilities every single day. Why can't you extend just a little of that to Serena? Right now, I'm all she has."

The blood drained from my body.

He was actually using my work, using my compassion, as leverage to make me accept his first love.

"Ethan, I'm your girlfriend. Not your ex's therapist."

I held his gaze.

"If you feel that strongly about her, why don't you just break up with me?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

His expression hardened. His voice took on a warning edge.

"When did I say anything about breaking up? I've given you everything you wanted, the school, the funding, a life most people dream about. Serena just needs my support right now. She's not a threat to your position. Don't push your luck."

Not a threat to your position.

So that was how he saw it. Love was something he could divide up and allocate. The title and the money went to me. But every ounce of his tenderness, every quiet act of care, every instinct to protect, all of that belonged to Serena.

My hand was in my pocket. My fingers were pressing into that ultrasound printout so hard I felt it crumple, then fold, then collapse into a ball of nothing.

"Okay." I lowered my eyes. "I understand."

Ethan took that for surrender. He reached out and ruffled my hair, satisfied.

"Good. I need to take Serena to her follow-up appointment tomorrow. If the school runs into a budget shortfall, just go through finance directly."

He disappeared into the bathroom.

I stood there listening to the sound of the shower running.

Slowly, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the crumpled printout.

I dropped it in the trash.

This baby had chosen the worst possible moment to exist.

The next morning, I was running a sensory integration session at the special needs school.

Sammy was a six-year-old boy who was deaf. He'd just had his cochlear implant surgery and was still struggling to make sense of all the sounds suddenly flooding his world.

I knelt on the floor beside him, patiently using sign language alongside spoken words to teach him the word sunshine.

From out in the hallway came the crisp click of heels against tile.