Chapter 2

At eight the next morning, Ethan came home with Claire.

She was wearing his coat. She placed the car keys into the tray by the door with practiced ease, as if she were the woman of the house.

When Ethan saw me, his steps paused.

I did not ask where he had been the way I would have before. I did not even look up.

He watched me for a few seconds, his brows tightening.

“Claire took care of me all night. Make two more breakfasts.”

I calmly finished the last bite of my oatmeal.

“The kitchen is over there. If you want breakfast, make it yourself.”

Ethan’s face chilled.

“Ava, I came back first. That was me giving you a way down. How long are you going to keep this up?”

“I didn’t ask you to come back.”

His expression stiffened.

In the end, he threw out a cold “Unbelievable” and went upstairs.

Only after he left did Claire stroll into the kitchen.

A moment later, she came out with a bowl of hot oatmeal and leaned down beside my ear with a soft laugh.

“Do you know where Mr. Kingsley took me last night?”

“Wyndmere Estate.”

My hand tightened sharply.

That place was full of the white roses I loved. It was also where Ethan had proposed to me.

Under a sky of fireworks, he had put the ring on my finger and said that place belonged only to us.

Claire watched my face, her smile cruel.

“The flowers outside the window were beautiful. The bed was comfortable too. We slept very well there.”

My heart felt as if it had been carved open, but my face showed nothing.

“You spent one night in another woman’s marriage bed and thought it was worth bragging about?”

Claire’s smile froze, and her expression twisted.

“Why do you get to do nothing and still be treasured? I nearly killed myself working to get where I am, and anything I want, I have to fight for myself.”

The moment she finished speaking, she suddenly flung the hot oatmeal at me.

I instinctively raised my arm to block it. The scalding liquid poured over my skin, turning it red and blistered almost instantly.

The bowl shattered on the floor.

Ethan rushed downstairs at the sound. When he saw Claire with red eyes, he shielded her behind him almost without hesitation.

“Ava, what did you do this time?”

Before I could explain, he snapped, “When are you going to grow up? Didn’t your father die in that car accident because he went out to buy you a cake just to satisfy one of your whims? Didn’t that teach you that not everyone should pay the price for your temper?”

It felt as if lightning had struck me.

I froze where I stood.

The burning pain on my arm seemed to sear straight into my heart.

That was the deepest wound I had buried.

Every time I woke from nightmares before, Ethan had held me tight and told me again and again that it was not my fault.

Now, in front of Claire, he tore open that scar with his own hands and used my father’s death to prove I was selfish and spoiled.

It turned out that the person who knew you best truly knew where to put the knife.

Claire hid behind him and tucked away the hand that had only a few tiny red spots.

“Mr. Kingsley, don’t blame Mrs. Kingsley. I said the wrong thing and upset her.”

I was trembling from pain, but my tears fell first.

“She threw the oatmeal.”

Ethan frowned, clearly not believing me.

I raised my arm, where blisters had already formed.

“Before you defend her, maybe look at which of us is hurt worse.”

Only then did he see the injury, and his expression changed.

“How did it get this bad?”

His gaze fell to my tears, and he seemed to remember what he had just said. Shock and panic flickered in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

He grabbed my wrist and was about to get the first-aid kit when Claire suddenly let out a muffled sound.

Ethan turned back and noticed the few red marks on her hand.

“You got burned too?”

“I’m fine,” Claire said stubbornly, shaking her head. “I accidentally knocked over the oatmeal. Mrs. Kingsley is hurt worse. Take care of her first.”

Ethan stared at the redness on her hand.

In the end, he let go of me.

“I’ll take her to the hospital first. The private doctor will come right away. Wait here.”

With that, he hurried away with Claire.

The door closed.

I stood amid the mess on the floor, my arm hurting so badly it felt like it was drilling into bone. But inside, I felt only numbness.

He knew I was hurt worse.

He saw me crying.

And still, he chose Claire.

I treated the wound as best I could, then went upstairs to pack my clothes, documents, and the prenuptial agreement.

Just then, Ethan’s mother messaged me.

Tonight is Margaret’s eightieth birthday dinner. You promised you’d be there. Don’t keep her waiting.

All these years, his grandmother had truly loved me.

Her health was poor. After I left this time, I might not have many chances to see her again.

Before I left, I wanted to say goodbye to her in person.

I replied: I’ll be there.

That evening, I went to the Kingsley estate.

Margaret was not well. She only appeared briefly at the start of the birthday dinner before the nurse helped her back upstairs.

She had fallen asleep, so I stayed downstairs and waited for her to wake.

In the banquet hall, Claire was sitting in the seat that had always belonged to me.

Ethan held her hand and brought her around to accept toasts from the Kingsley relatives.

They looked like the real married couple.