Chapter 2

Tara's POV

The next evening, I forced down my nausea and stepped into the Lancaster house.

The lawyer told me that if I wanted a smooth divorce, I'd better have solid evidence of Ethan's infidelity.

I decided to hide my mother's death for now and pretend everything was normal.

I'd barely crossed the living room when Selene's sickeningly sweet voice latched onto me.

"Miss Tara, you're finally back~ I've been craving the cake you make!"

Ethan had truly been taking excellent care of her.

Six months pregnant, she looked rosy-cheeked with innocent eyes.

As if the person who had shrilly accused me of being a homewrecker and infuriated my mother to death at the hospital yesterday wasn't her at all.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms, almost drawing blood.

The pain barely helped me maintain my composure, forcing down the bone-deep hatred as I said hoarsely, "Hire a chef. I'm tired."

"But I want yours," Selene pouted, rubbing her belly.

"The baby inside wants it too."

Ethan's mother immediately chimed in, "Selene's carrying a precious child. Tara, can't you show a little consideration?"

Ethan's father frowned too, glancing at me with displeasure.

The study door opened. Ethan walked out, his gaze passing over me without the slightest warmth.

"If Selene wants it, go make it. Don't keep her waiting."

"Eric," Selene cooed, leaning toward him. "Don't be so harsh with her."

Ethan looked down at her, the ice in his eyes melting instantly, becoming tender enough to drip water. "Alright, whatever you say."

When he turned back to me, cold and distant again. "Hurry up."

That sentence was like a sharp knife, stabbing my most painful spot.

This was clearly my husband, yet he brazenly played another man in front of me, being sweet with another woman.

But right now, I couldn't act rashly.

I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, then turned and walked into the kitchen.

Last night I'd been drenched in rain all night. A low fever made me dizzy and lightheaded, my vision going dark in waves.

As I mixed the batter, images of my mother's pale face at death and the Lancaster family's cold expressions flashed alternately, tearing at my nerves.

My eyes burned hot. I forced the tears back.

I couldn't cry. At least not now. I still had more important things to do.

Nearly exhausted, I worked for almost two hours before the cake was barely finished.

But Selene only lazily tasted half a bite before pushing it away, pouting coquettishly, "I waited too long. I'm sleepy now. Don't want it anymore."

Ethan carefully helped her up, not even glancing back as he tossed at me, "Be faster next time."

He supported Selene and headed straight to their room.

Selene gave me a faint glance, a trace of triumph flashing in her eyes.

I stood frozen, my chest heavy and cold, as if weighed down by ice.

I remembered how before, if I just had a slight loss of appetite, Ethan would chase after me to feed me, doing everything he could to coax me.

And now, all that tenderness and care had gone to another woman.

Love never disappears. Love only transfers.

Leaving me alone in the same place, foolishly waiting.

My vision began to blur, my head splitting with pain.

I knew I had a high fever and should take medicine quickly.

But I felt cold all over, couldn't muster any strength.

Soon I collapsed onto the sofa, losing consciousness.

When I woke again, the entire Lancaster household was in chaos.

Apparently Selene had broken out in hives and was having difficulty breathing.

Ethan's face was ashen. He scooped Selene up horizontally and rushed out the door, heading straight to the hospital.

He completely failed to notice me on the sofa, my face deathly pale.

I went to the hospital myself and registered for emergency care.

My name was called over the loudspeaker. I forced myself to stand up, about to go for treatment.

But a figure blocked my path, gripping my wrist hard.

"You knew perfectly well that Selene is severely allergic to peanuts! Why did you still put peanuts in the cake?!"

It was Ethan.

He stared at me, his eyes bloodshot.

I was burning with fever, dizzy, and he was shaking me until I could barely stand.

"There weren't any peanuts... I didn't put any in..."

"Liar!"

Ethan shoved me away. I stumbled backward, hitting the cold wall, my whole body swaying, yet it earned not a trace of his sympathy.

"The doctor said it was food allergy! Who else but you? Tara, how did you become so vicious? That's Eric's only flesh and blood in her belly!"

I took a deep breath and asked back, "Eric's only flesh and blood. What does that have to do with me?"

He looked at me with disappointment, saying coldly, "If I hadn't let Eric take that business trip to spend your birthday with you, he would never have been on that flight!"

"The one who should have been in the plane crash was me! The one who should have lost her husband was you!"

"Tara, you owe Eric a life! Yet you harm his wife and child. Do you have any conscience at all?!"

With a buzzing sound, my world fell completely silent.

The high fever and heartbreak dulled my senses. I could only see his lips moving.

His emotionless gaze was like a dull knife, slowly torturing my already mangled heart.

Eric's death was an accident. Why should I atone for it?!

I'd already yielded my husband, even lost my mother whom I depended on-wasn't that enough?!

I desperately wanted to question Ethan, but my throat was so dry and painful, I couldn't make a sound.

Sliding down the cold wall to sit on the floor, I closed my eyes.

Before losing consciousness, I saw Ethan panic and rush toward me, calling out, "Tara, what's wrong?"

But my heart was already completely numb.

In the last second before losing consciousness, I murmured, "Ethan, don't call my name..."

You don't deserve to.

In the darkness, I thought hazily.

Less than seven days until my mother's funeral.

That day, I would hold a grand memorial service for my mother.

And that day, I would bring everything to an end. I would give my mother closure.