Chapter 4

I finally said it.

It felt much more peaceful than I had imagined.

Ethan looked as if he had been struck by lightning. He stared at me, his eyes turning red instantly.

"No. I won't do it," he said, his voice panicked.

"Chloe, I know I messed up."

"Our anniversary... we can redo it. I'll plan everything."

"Just give me one more chance, I promise—"

"What do you promise?" I looked at him calmly.

"Can you promise to never see Cleo again? Can you promise to stay out of her life? Ethan, you can't."

He fell silent, his lips pressed into a tight line.

See? He couldn't even lie to me without hesitating.

Right then, his phone on the table began to vibrate again.

On the screen, the name *Cleo* flashed relentlessly.

He glanced at it. He didn't pick up, but he didn't decline the call either.

The buzzing sound felt like a cruel joke, reminding me of the one person I could never compete with.

I closed my eyes, feeling the last bit of my energy drain away.

"Just leave," I said. "I'm tired."

"Chloe."

"Get out."

My voice was soft, but it carried an absolute, cold finality.

"Okay. I'll be right outside the door."

He lingered for a few seconds before finally picking up his phone and walking out, his footsteps incredibly heavy.

The door clicked shut.

I curled my body into a tight ball, burying my face in the pillow. Finally, the tears broke through, soaking the sheets.

I cried for the baby I never got to meet.

And I cried for the five years of marriage that had turned out to be a complete illusion.

My parents and Mrs. Vance arrived at the hospital shortly after.

Upon hearing about the miscarriage, Mrs. Vance’s face darkened instantly. The look she gave me was filled with disappointment and blame.

"How could you be so careless? A perfectly healthy baby, just gone like that..." She didn't finish her sentence, but her tone spoke volumes.

My mother, Sarah, immediately stepped in front of my bed, her eyes tearing up. "Mrs. Vance, Chloe just lost her child. She is physically weak and grieving. Please watch your words."

My dad, Robert, stood there with a furious expression, glaring at Ethan, who was standing silently by the door. "What the hell happened? How did she suddenly miscarry?"

Ethan opened his mouth, but not a single word came out.

I answered for him. "It was just an accident, Dad."

I didn't want to drag my parents into a messy, ugly fight in the hospital room.

Mrs. Vance sighed, her tone softening slightly. "Well, you're both still young. Once your body recovers, you can always try again. The most important thing is to heal."

She didn't know yet that the doctor said I might never conceive naturally again.

Ethan remained silent about it too.

After a short stay, I asked them to leave, using the excuse that I needed rest.

Only my mom insisted on staying overnight to watch over me.

Ethan refused to leave the hospital. "I'll stay in the waiting room outside," he said.

I ignored him.

During my stay, he came by every single day, bringing homemade soup from our housekeeper. He even set up his laptop in the VIP suite's living area to work.

He tried to talk to me, tried to explain, tried to apologize.

My only response was absolute silence.

Cleo was a permanent wedge between us. There was no going back.

He stopped taking her calls in front of me, but I could still hear him whispering on the phone in the hallway.

The day I was discharged, he drove me back.

Walking back into the house we had shared, everything looked exactly the same, yet everything felt completely different.

I packed a small bag and moved directly into the guest bedroom.

Ethan stood at the door, his eyes filled with pain. "Chloe, do you really have to do this?"

"I need peace to recover." I shut the door in his face, locking him out.

The next day, I contacted a divorce lawyer.

My lawyer was my college friend, Rachel.

After listening to my story, Rachel gave me a calm, professional analysis.

"Divorce is definitely doable. But since Ethan's company has a highly complex asset structure, dividing the marital assets will take time. Plus, if he refuses to sign, this could turn into a long, drawn-out legal battle."

"It's fine," I said. "I can wait."

After getting my emotions in check, I reached out to my old bandmates.

Back in college, I used to secretly play bass in an indie underground band. It was my only escape from the suffocatingly perfect life my parents had planned for me.

But after I met Ethan, especially after we got married, I forced myself to cut ties with that world. I picked up the classical piano again just to fit the image of "Mrs. Vance."

Looking back, I realized I hadn't lived a single day for myself in years.

However, on my first day back at the music studio, I noticed something off.

My bandmates were looking at me with pity, whispering behind my back.

One of my close friends quietly pulled me aside and handed me her phone.

A local celebrity gossip account had just posted a major leak: during Cleo's tour, Ethan had been spotted accompanying her multiple times.

Even worse, on the exact day of my miscarriage, a paparazzi had captured a photo of Cleo leaving the very hospital I was staying in.

The caption read: *Trouble in paradise? Is the old-money marriage hitting the rocks? Is the Rock Queen finally winning her man back?*

The comment section was brutal.

"The wife is so pathetic. I heard she just lost her baby."

"Honestly, Ethan and Cleo are soulmates. The wife was probably just a business arrangement anyway."

"Why did Cleo go to the hospital? To mark her territory? Damn."

I stared at the blurry photos and the harsh words. I had to take several deep breaths to keep myself from breaking down.

So, while I was lying in that hospital bed, grieving the loss of our child, his beloved Cleo had actually come to visit him. And he had gone down to meet her.