Chapter 2

At seven in the morning, Ethan walked through the front door, bringing in a rush of cold air along with a sickeningly sweet perfume that didn't belong to him.

"Meetings ran until the crack of dawn." Bloodshot veins lined his eyes as he reached out to pull me into his arms, his tone soft and apologetic. "I'm sorry I left my Lemon alone all night."

I stepped aside, dodging his touch.

His fingers froze in midair, a flash of surprise crossing his face.

Yet almost instantly, that surprise melted into overwhelming affection.

"Still mad at me?" He ruffled my hair and turned toward the kitchen. "I'll make you some breakfast."

My phone screen lit up repeatedly.

Vivienne had posted a new update on Instagram.

In the photo, the diamond ring on her ring finger flashed blindingly bright.

Her story refreshed right after.

A grid of photos, the last one showing a thoroughly wrecked hotel bed, with scraps of black lace lingerie scattered across the sheets.

The comment section was buzzing.

"Whoa! That looks intense!"

"Vivi, aren't you worried Ethan's wife might find out?"

"I blocked her ages ago."

"Even if she sees it, so what? A woman who couldn't even keep her daughter alive and can't bear him a kid—how is she supposed to hold onto a man?"

"Exactly. Ethan's gonna kick her to the curb sooner or later. He's just pitying her right now."

My fingertips turned numb, blood rushing loudly in my ears.

I lifted my head. Ethan was carrying a steaming bowl of seafood chowder from the kitchen, his eyes full of warmth as he looked at me.

"Your favorite. I made sure to toss in extra shrimp and scallops."

He scooped up a spoonful, blew on it gently, and held it to my lips.

Through the rising steam, several brownish mushroom slices floated clearly on top.

I was deathly allergic to mushrooms. Once, a single accidental bite had sent me straight to the ICU.

Back then, he had stayed up all night outside the emergency room, his eyes swollen and red, clutching my hand while trembling uncontrollably: Lemon, you can't leave me. You have to make it.

"I'll eat it myself."

I took the bowl from him, my fingers shaking slightly.

He picked up his phone, typing away at lightning speed, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

The scorching ceramic burned my palms, but it was nothing compared to the bone-chilling frost creeping over my heart.

I lowered my head. Fat tears fell into the soup, mixing with the broth as I forced down every spoonful, mushrooms and all.

The bowl finally emptied, leaving only a few mushroom remnants resting against the bottom.

Ethan looked up just in time. His gaze casually swept over the empty bowl, and he suddenly stiffened, all the color draining from his face.

"Lemon, I—" he stammered, scrambling to explain.

I dabbed my mouth with a napkin, cut him off, and stood up. "I'm going to wash my face."

The bathroom door clicked shut behind me.

I cranked on the tap, splashing freezing water against my cheeks to numb the burning, itchy rash flaring under my skin, but nothing could stop the flood of hot tears.

The woman in the mirror was covered in angry red hives, her eyes puffy and bloodshot, looking utterly pathetic.

Just as I gripped the edges of the sink, my shoulders shaking violently, the door flew open.

Ethan burst in, breathless and frantic. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his hot breath brushing against my neck, his voice trembling with remorse.

"I'm sorry, Lemon. I've been so overwhelmed with work lately that it slipped my mind... Please forgive me, okay? Once this busy stretch is over, I promise I'll make it up to you..."

Before he could finish, his phone went off.

A custom ringtone—bouncy, playful, and sweet.

His entire frame went rigid.

I lifted my dripping face, catching the reflection of his screen in the mirror. Two words flashed across it:

Vivi.

He slammed the power button as if he had touched live wire.

"It's... just the company's vice president," he said, turning around to pull me close again, forcing a steady tone. "A crisis on a project."

I didn't call him out. I simply stared at him through the mirror in silence.

He reflexively dodged my eyes, leaning down to press a guilty, placating kiss to my cheek.

"Be good, okay? Something came up at work, so I have to go deal with it." He paused, softening his voice even more. "I'll come home early tonight. Just the two of us."

His footsteps faded down the hall.

A second later, a violent wave of nausea tore through my stomach.

I threw myself over the sink, dry-heaving until tears streamed down my face, practically turning my insides out.

I splashed more cold water onto my face.

The woman in the mirror looked as pale as a corpse, her eyes dead and hollow.

After drying my hands, I pulled a dusty old burner phone from the bottom of my drawer.

"Professor, I want to take that spot in your lab abroad. As soon as possible."

After ending the call, I dialed a second number.

"Julian, I need you to draft a divorce settlement for me. And while you're at it, look into something else—"

I paused for a second, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Find out what really happened with the bone marrow match for my daughter back then."