Chapter 2

"Because you're just my stand-in."

My chest tightened with excruciating pain. My hands shook so hard I could barely hold the phone.

"Justin, who are you talking to? Come cuddle me," Chloe's sultry voice drifted through the receiver.

It had been so long since she spoke to me like that.

At some point, our daily conversations had dwindled to fewer than three sentences.

Usually, it was just: "Working late. Don't wait up."

Yet in the beginning, she was the one who burst into my world like a beam of sunlight.

She healed the deepest scars on my soul.

"Ethan, your smile is breathtaking! You should smile more, okay?" College-era Chloe had gently poked my cheeks with her fingers, her smile brighter than the sun.

"Ethan, I'll stay by your side forever."

"Ethan, talk to me!"

"Ethan, let's get married."

When I was ten, my mother jumped to her death. The doctors said she suffered from severe depression.

My father, Robert, brought endless mistresses into our home while treating Mom as if she were invisible.

Less than two months after she died, Robert remarried a woman named Brenda.

And with her came a son—just one month younger than me.

My cold, distant father showered that boy with unimaginable love, granting his every whim.

Yet Justin always coveted my things: my room, my pets, my toys...

And now, he wanted my wife.

Looking at Justin's smug face, I shoved him away with all my strength.

He stumbled back dramatically, then viciously kicked my injured leg.

The agonizing pain buckled my knees. I collapsed onto the crowded hospital floor, blacking out from the shock.

"Nurse! Help!" I faintly heard Chloe's frantic scream before darkness swallowed me.

When I opened my eyes again, Chloe was sitting beside my hospital bed.

Her expression was gentle and tender. "You're awake? How are you feeling?"

I stared at her, mesmerized by the warmth of her hand.

The next second, her words plunged me into an icy abyss.

"Ethan, Justin didn't mean it. Please don't hold a grudge against him."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. I pulled back the blanket; the dusty footprint on my pant leg was still starkly visible.

"Right. Just go home," I said coldly. "Please take care of Lucky for a few days. If you don't have time, drop him off at a pet boarding facility."

Lucky was the rescue dog Mom gave me before she died. He had been with me ever since.

Chloe agreed immediately. She offered me a bowl of warm walnut porridge with an eager smile. "I heard porridge is good for recovery. I went and bought this specifically for you."

I turned my head away. "Did you forget? I have a severe nut allergy."

Besides, I hated sweet food. Justin was the one who loved sugary snacks.

My nut allergy was severe—hives at best, anaphylactic shock at worst.

Justin had once slipped peanut powder into my breakfast before a school assembly. He watched with glee as I collapsed on stage, covered in hives and gasping for air in front of the entire campus.

Chloe's face flushed with awkwardness, which instantly morphed into defensive irritation. "Why didn't you say so earlier?! Fine, starve then!"

We had been married for three years. How could I have never told her? She simply never cared.

*SLAM!* Chloe stormed out, slamming the door.

Her temper was worse than ever.

She would block me everywhere on Snapchat and Instagram if I took longer than two seconds to reply to her texts. If she got tired on a walk, she would publicly berate me in the middle of the street.

She banned me from having female friends and deleted my female colleagues and boss from my phone, costing me a hard-won promotion and eventually my job.

She told me a woman needed a career, so I stayed home to support hers.

I ironed her clothes, cooked her meals, washed her laundry, drove her to and from work, and traveled with her on business trips.

A few months ago, while picking her up from a company party, I overheard her colleagues laughing.

"Ethan is so bland and useless. I saw him the other day—he's even got a gut! Hahaha, Chloe, I can't believe you haven't dumped him."