Chapter 3

"Why are you packing?"

Ethan’s suspicious gaze landed on me, his muscles tensing.

"Leo..." I paused, biting my lip before continuing, "He’s not coming back."

In the end, I kept the truth to myself.

I didn't want to humiliate myself further, nor did I want to use my son’s death to test if he had a heart.

It wasn't worth it.

Ethan let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

"Good. Chloe is staying here for a few days anyway. She can sleep in Leo's room."

My heart squeezed so hard it felt like it was bleeding.

Chloe always had unlimited access to this house. She came and went as she pleased.

She looked more like the mistress of this house than I ever did, while Leo and I were just guests.

I had fought with Ethan about this before, and he had promised me he would set boundaries.

But he broke that promise, over and over again.

I smiled bitterly. "It's your house. Do whatever you want."

Ethan froze, clearly surprised by how easily I had given in.

Right then, Chloe's sweet voice echoed from downstairs.

"Ethan! Come here for a second!"

Without another word, Ethan turned and ran to her.

That night, I ran a high fever. My mind was a chaotic mess of memories, and tears flowed silently down my face.

I remembered when I used to get sick, Ethan would cancel multi-million-dollar meetings just to stay by my side at the hospital.

The cold, arrogant CEO would turn into a gentle husband, coaxing me to take my medicine with a lollipop.

Now, I reached out to the empty side of the bed, feeling nothing but cold sheets.

By midnight, my throat felt like it was on fire. I dragged myself out of bed to get some water.

As I passed Leo's room, I heard giggles and hushed whispers from inside.

"Stop it, Ethan! Be serious and put the ointment on me. It really iches!"

Through the half-open door, I saw Ethan lifting the hem of Chloe's shirt, smiling as he rubbed ointment on her lower back.

"Where did you scrape it? Let me see."

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension.

"That is my son's bed."

My raspy, dry voice shattered the romantic mood.

Seeing their startled expressions, I lost my mind. I rushed in, shoved them both off the bed, and began frantically wiping the sheets where they had lain.

"Clara! Have you lost your mind?!"

Ethan's hand flew across my face, slapping me hard.

The copper taste of blood filled my mouth, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest.

"Chloe and I grew up together! Why do you have to be so psychotic? It's the middle of the night, where else was I supposed to put ointment on her?"

It was always the same excuse. Growing up together apparently justified any level of intimacy.

I remembered when I got into a car accident while pregnant. I had accidentally video-called him, only to see Chloe in a bikini, lounging in his lap.

"You're so toxic for checking up on me like this. We are basically siblings!"

He had hung up on me. That night, I suffered a severe hemorrhage and almost died on the operating table.

Pushing the memory away, I repeated coldly, "This is my son's bed. I won't let you defile his things."

Ethan let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh.

"Fine! We'll go stay at a hotel. We won't stay here to eyesore you!"

He grabbed his coat, wrapped it around Chloe, and shoved past me, hard.

Chloe looked back at me over her shoulder, her eyes filled with triumph and malice.