Chapter 2

I stared at that photo for a long time.

The small mole on the man's thumb… I knew it too well.

It was Ethan's hand.

I remembered him saying rings were a shackle; he never wore them. Yet now he wore one for her.

My phone screen reflected my face, eerily calm. Five years, and I had been the joke all along.

"Mommy, mommy! Time for candles and wishes!"

Lucas's voice pulled me back. I switched off my phone and lit the birthday candles.

"Make a wish, little genius."

Lucas closed his eyes, hands pressed together. He was so serious, like a little adult.

"I wish Mommy will always be happy."

When he said it, I nearly broke down.

"She will," I said, stroking his head. "Mommy will be happy."

After putting Lucas to sleep, I retrieved the papers I'd prepared in advance. Not my resignation from the company, but the contract ending our relationship. I wrote today's date and signed my name at the end.

Now it only needed his signature.

I waited on the sofa until eleven PM when the lock finally clicked.

Ethan walked in, his steps unsteady, his suit slightly disheveled.

"You're still up?" He opened his arms, habitually waiting for me to help him with his jacket.

I walked over and took his suit. The smell of alcohol was strong, mingled with a woman's perfume. Not my brand.

"There are some important documents that need your signature," I said, placing the file on the coffee table.

Only then did he notice the half-eaten birthday cake. He paused for a few seconds.

"I'm sorry, I was swamped tonight," he said, sinking onto the sofa. "I'll make it up to Lucas tomorrow."

I didn't respond, just handed him the pen.

As Ethan flipped through the file, I watched his expression. The alcohol made him distracted; he probably only glanced at the title and the signature line.

"My father arranged the marriage with Victoria for the inheritance," he explained while signing. "I need to play along. You understand."

And the ring in the photo? Was that also an act?

"Once I secure the inheritance, we'll go public," he said, signing his name and looking up at me. "Emma, trust me."

I took the signed document, folded it, and placed it in my bag.

"Hmm."

He reached out to hug me. I instinctively took a step back.

"What's wrong? Still angry?" He frowned, moving closer. "Come here."

When he tried to kiss me, I pushed him away. It was the first time I had refused him.

Ethan stopped, his eyes turning cold.

"Don't need the money anymore?" His tone was sardonic. "You used to be willing to do anything for it."

I looked at him, remembering my mother's skeletal frame during her last chemotherapy. Remembering how I had offered to sign that agreement to cover the medical bills. After every time we had sex, he would transfer me money.

But not anymore. My mother was gone. I no longer needed to earn money that way.

As he tried to pull at my clothes, his phone rang.

"Ethan..." Victoria's voice came through the receiver, choked with tears. "I suddenly feel so dizzy... everything's going black, I can't breathe..."

The sound of shattering glass came through the line.

"I'm all alone... I'm scared..."

Ethan immediately stood up. "I'm on my way."

He hurriedly put on his jacket and rushed out the door without a second glance at me.

The living room fell silent again. I sat on the sofa and stared at the pen on the table. I couldn't stop the tears from falling.

Not because he had left again, but because I could finally leave.

The next morning, I went to the office for my final handover.

Ethan approached as I was packing my desk, holding a beautifully wrapped box.

"For Lucas," he said, placing it on the desk. "A kids' smartwatch. Very accurate GPS."

I remembered last year at the museum when Lucas got lost. Ethan had triggered the full-site alarm. We frantically called his phone; he was too scared to answer. The blaring sirens terrified the kid. He cried all night and still refused to go to museums or wear smartwatches.

But Ethan didn't care. He never understood the child.

"Thank you," I said, taking the box.

Then he produced a blue jewelry box. "And this is for you."

I glanced at the packaging—a Tiffany necklace. He must need a favor.

"It's the one you liked when we went shopping last time," he said.

We hadn't gone shopping together in ages. And I never liked wearing necklaces.

"Thank you," I feigned gratitude.

"Victoria isn't well. She just moved back, and her family is overseas," he paused. "Could you and Lucas move out for a few days? Let her recover at the house."

I looked up at him. For Victoria, he was even willing to send his own son away.

"Fine," I nodded. "We'll move out tonight."

Ethan seemed relieved. "Once she's better..."

"It's fine," I interrupted. "She's important to you."

That afternoon, I packed our things.

In five years, I hadn't accumulated much. I only took some of Lucas's toys and clothes. I donated all my clothes. I left behind every expensive gift and piece of jewelry.

As I wheeled my suitcase out, holding Lucas's hand, the elevator doors opened just as we reached the lobby.

The moment the doors opened, I saw them.

Ethan was carrying a pink suitcase, his other hand on Victoria's waist. She was leaning into him, her arm looped through his.

When our eyes met, Ethan immediately removed his hand from Victoria's waist, a flicker of awkwardness on his face.