Chapter 2

"The divorce agreement is on the coffee table. The pen is right next to it."

Ethan’s tone was completely flat.

Chloe Brooks was sitting in my usual spot. She glanced at me, the corners of her mouth curving into a smug little smirk, but she said nothing.

That look of hers instantly reminded me of a parasite occupying a host's nest.

I walked over and picked up the agreement. Three pages, densely packed with text.

The house went to Ethan. The company shares went to Ethan. The savings went to Ethan. The car went to Ethan.

I got absolutely nothing.

"I walk away with nothing?"

Ethan finally spared me a glance. "The agreement states you'll get a lump-sum compensation of thirty thousand dollars. That’s more than fair."

Thirty thousand. I had been married to this man for three years. Ten thousand dollars a year.

Chloe set her teacup down. "Iris, thirty thousand is enough for you to rent a decent studio apartment."

She called me Iris, but her tone carried a patronizing pity.

I stared at her. "When did you get back?"

"Yesterday," Chloe tilted her head, smiling sweetly. "Ethan picked me up from the airport. He waited for four hours because my flight was delayed."

Yesterday. Yesterday, Ethan told me he had to work late at the office for an emergency.

Chloe stood up, walked over to Ethan, and naturally wrapped her arm around his. "Ethan said you're a good person. He said you wouldn't make things difficult for us."

Ethan didn't pull away from her touch.

The pregnancy test pressed hard against my thigh through my pocket, leaving a dull ache.

I had originally run home to tell him, *Ethan, we’re having a baby.*

*You don't have to lose sleep over the office rent anymore. You don't have to drink yourself to a stomach bleed just to please clients.*

I thought today was going to be the best day of our lives.

"Where's the pen?" I asked.

Ethan pointed to the coffee table.

I bent down to grab the pen. From this angle, I could see Chloe’s hand resting intimately on Ethan's lower back.

As I uncapped the pen, the pregnancy test almost slid out of my pocket. I quickly pressed it back down.

"Sign on the last page. Put today's date," Ethan’s voice came from above me.

I signed my name. *Iris Miller.*

I put the pen down and stood up.

"Fine. But we still need to go to the courthouse tomorrow to make the dissolution official."

"Tomorrow at 9:00 AM. I'll meet you there," Ethan said, pulling out his phone. Right in front of my face, he unlocked it and opened his contacts.

He changed my contact name from "Wife" to "Iris Miller."

Then he locked his phone and slid it back into his pocket.

Chloe leaned her head on his shoulder. "Ethan, I want that garlic butter steak and mashed potatoes you promised me."

"Sure. I bought some fresh ribeyes. I’ll make it for you."

Ethan actually turned and walked into the kitchen.

We had been married for three years, and he had never cooked a single meal for me.

Whenever I asked him if he could cook, he always said he didn't know how, claiming he would burn the kitchen down even if he just boiled instant ramen.

But now, the way he tied his apron was smoother than a pro chef.

Chloe shrugged at me. "Iris, don't just stand there. Pack up your stuff and go. I’m having decorators come in tomorrow to remodel. I saw your clothes in the closet—they're so old and tacky. Don't bother taking them. Honestly, they're too cheap to even use as cleaning rags."

I went into the bedroom, took my ID, and packed a small canvas bag. It held only a few sentimental items I had brought from my family when I married him. None of it had anything to do with Ethan.

As I walked past the kitchen on my way out, Ethan was chopping herbs on the cutting board. The knife made a steady, rhythmic sound. He didn't look up once.

I stood at the doorway to change my shoes. Chloe followed me, leaning against the doorframe.

"Iris, there's something I think you should know."

"Go ahead," I said.

"When Ethan was with me, he never sighed. But during these past three years with you, I heard him sigh so many times over the phone." She lowered her gaze, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Maybe you two were just never meant to be."

I looked at her.

Ethan sighed because his cash flow was blocked, because clients canceled orders, and because his startup was constantly on the verge of bankruptcy.

And every single time he faced a crisis, I secretly pulled strings to resolve it. He would wake up the next morning finding all his problems magically solved, genuinely believing it was just "good luck."

"You're right," I said, bending down to tie my sneakers. "We were never meant to be."

As the door clicked shut behind me, I heard Chloe’s voice drift from inside.

"Ethan, let's change the smart lock passcode. I want to set it to our anniversary."

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