Chapter 4

I found a random hotel to stay for the night.

After drafting my resignation letter, I made a call.

"I accept the job offer you extended earlier. I will fly out to London tomorrow."

The person on the other end responded with joy.

After booking my flight, four hours had passed.

My phone lit up with a call from Ethan.

After a brief hesitation, I answered it.

Ethan's voice sounded exhausted.

"Chloe, did you leave the group chat?"

"Stop throwing tantrums. I've talked to Natalie, and she said you can move back in."

"But you'll have to handle the cooking and cleaning."

I let out a cynical laugh.

"Ethan, do you guys really think of me as your maid?"

Ethan sighed defensively.

"Don't be ridiculous. You know Natalie's condition."

"Just be good. Natalie wants to host a dinner party tomorrow and made a list. Make sure you buy the groceries and come home on time."

A long shopping list popped up in my messages.

Coke chicken wings for Natalie, braised pork for Ethan.

Fresh juice for Clara, potato chips for Tyler.

Dozens of items, meticulously listed.

Not a single thing was for me.

Once again, I was completely excluded from their world.

My heart went entirely cold.

I didn't want to waste my breath arguing. I hung up the phone and blocked his number.

The next day, carrying my resignation letter,

I hadn't even stepped through the office doors

when Natalie rushed toward me, followed by an aggressive crowd of reporters.

Before I could react,

Natalie slapped me hard across the face.

A notebook was thrown to the ground, splaying open before me.

It was the love diary Ethan had written for me—the one I had thrown in the trash yesterday.

"Chloe Miller! I was wondering why you refused to leave my husband's house!"

"It turns out you've been fantasizing about my husband in this diary every single day! We're supposed to be best friends, how could you do something so disgusting?!"

My head spun from the slap. Before I could catch my breath,

the reporters swarmed me, shoving microphones and cameras into my face.

"Miss Miller, is it true that you stayed as Mr. Sterling's secretary for six years, even turning down high-paying executive offers from other companies, just to climb into his bed?"

"Have you been staying at Miss Davis's home these past few months just to steal her husband?"

The blinding camera flashes made it impossible to open my eyes.

Passersby stopped to watch, and a wave of insults washed over me.

My head spun, but I couldn't take it anymore. I screamed out the truth:

"I didn't write those diaries! Ethan wrote them for me!"

"You're the one with amnesia! You mistook Ethan as your boyfriend!"

"The person Ethan was supposed to marry was me!"