Chapter 9

I spun around. My mother was lying on the floor, gasping for air, clutching her chest. She had chronic high blood pressure and a weak heart. The shock was too much for her.

Our house was far from the nearest hospital. Fearing the ambulance wouldn't arrive in time, I grabbed Ethan's arm, begging him, "Take my mother to the hospital first!"

Even though Chloe's sudden appearance had caught me off guard, my mind was sharp.

I knew that if Chloe had the time to track down my parents' address and drive all the way here, Leo's injury couldn't be life-threatening.

But my mother truly could not wait.

Ethan gave me a cold, unreadable look, then stepped back, pulling his arm from my grip. "I have to see Leo. Call an ambulance."

This was the first time in our ten years together that he hadn't put me first.

He had always been incredibly respectful and caring toward my parents, sometimes even more than toward his own mother. I never imagined he could look at their life-and-death crisis with such cold indifference.

"We can take them both!" I pleaded.

The hospital was on the way. There were plenty of seats in his car.

"Ethan," Chloe whimpered, tugging at his sleeve. "Leo and Helen are waiting downstairs. His head is bandaged, but he won't stop crying for his daddy. He's so small..."

Chloe looked at me, a triumphant smirk flashing across her face.

She was entirely confident that Ethan would choose her.

And why wouldn't he? They had lived as a secret family for years, and they shared a child. I was nothing compared to that bond.

Ethan couldn't even look me in the eye. He lowered his head and rushed out with Chloe.

Three minutes passed.

I didn't have time to grieve. I ran next door and knocked on my neighbor's door, begging them to help me drive my parents to the hospital.

Fortunately, my parents had great relationships with our neighbors. We made it to the hospital just in time, and the doctors stabilized my mother.

But the left side of her body was paralyzed.

Looking at my pale mother lying in the ICU, and my father clutching her hand, refusing to leave her side, I was consumed by guilt.

It was my fault. All my fault. I should never have let Ethan come with me.

I should have lied and made up an excuse. Even if my parents suspected something, they wouldn't have been blindsided and literally driven into a medical emergency by his mistress.

It was the holiday season, and the neighborhood was packed. I couldn't even imagine the gossip that would spread.

I didn't dare bring up Ethan's name. This was the man my parents had treated like a son for over a decade. His betrayal was sickening.

People really do change.

"What is going on, Claire?" my father asked quietly when we stepped out of the room.

"I don't know the full story yet," I said, my voice steady and empty of emotion. "But Ethan has been cheating on me, and he has a three-year-old son. I'm divorcing him. My job transfer is already approved. I will handle this, Dad."

My father looked at me, his eyes filled with gentle sorrow. "Divorce him, sweetie. And don't blame yourself for your mother's condition. The doctor said she'll recover with physical therapy. We got here in time."

Even now, my father was trying to comfort me.

The tears I had held back for days finally spilled over.

I had been so terrified. I was so scared that my mother would die because of my messy life.

"Claire! Is Mom okay? I brought some home-cooked pigeon soup for her."

Ethan appeared at the end of the hallway, holding a bouquet of yellow roses in one hand and a fruit basket and thermos in the other. His worried expression looked incredibly genuine.

It was as if he had completely forgotten what he did a few hours ago. He acted as though he hadn't abandoned my dying mother in her own living room.

My father gave him a cold look and walked straight back into the ICU, shutting the door.

Ethan, seemingly immune to our hatred, stepped closer to me. "Claire, babe, I bought your favorite yellow roses. Please forgive me."

I couldn't maintain my composure anymore. "Forgive you? How can you say that so easily? That is my mother! She almost died because of you!"

I could forgive a lot of things. I could handle the cheating; after all, love fades, and when it's gone, it's gone. I could accept that we weren't meant to grow old together, and I was willing to walk away quietly.

I could even ignore his locker-room talk with his friends. They were nothing to me.

I could even ignore Chloe's petty provocations. None of her little stunts had caused me real physical harm. She loved Ethan and wanted him to herself, so she targeted me. I understood the dirty game of a homewrecker.

But my parents were my red line.