Chapter 3

When Chloe first returned, they kept things subtle. But after her birthday party, Ethan began leaving early and coming home late, often not coming home at all.

If he wasn't with Chloe, he was on his way to see her.

Finally, my patience broke.

I told him he was forbidden from seeing her again. His face darkened instantly.

He called me narrow-minded, claiming that it was just an innocent dinner between old friends and that my lack of trust was toxic.

He even sneered that if I had so much free time, I should go find a real job instead of sitting at home doing nothing, mooching off him and obsessing over imaginary affairs.

He conveniently forgot that I gave up everything to manage his household only because he wanted someone to take care of him.

He was the one who said he didn't want me suffering in the corporate world, promising that he would provide while I just stayed pretty.

Hell, even his prestigious corporate job was secured through my father's connections.

Now, he threw it in my face, claiming I was useless and treating me like a leech.

All those solemn vows had vanished into thin air.

For the past two years, our marriage had devolved into endless screaming matches.

Whenever we fought, Ethan would give me the silent treatment and vanish for days, waiting until I cried and begged for him to come home.

My love had become his favorite weapon to torture me with.

And tonight, when he threw me out into the cold snow for Chloe's sake, my delusions finally shattered. That marriage certificate meant nothing.

In Ethan's heart, Chloe was the untouchable white moonlight.

Shivering violently in the winter air, I looked up. The warm lights on the second floor felt blinding.

Shadows moved past the window.

They were probably sitting down for New Year's Eve dinner right now.

In the penthouse I bought with my own money, his whole family was celebrating while the rightful owner was locked out in the cold.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my luxury real estate broker. "Hi, Liam. Put my penthouse on the market immediately."

Since I had chosen divorce, they weren't getting a single penny that belonged to me.

With flights grounded on New Year's Eve, I booked the earliest first-class ticket out on the morning after next.

When Ethan finally tracked me down, I was sitting in a hotel room eating instant noodles.

He stormed inside and slapped the hot paper bowl straight out of my hands.

"Claire, who the hell gave you the nerve to put the penthouse up for sale without even asking me?"

"That's our home! It doesn't belong to just you!"

Looking at his furious face, I suddenly found the whole thing hilarious.

Seeing my silence, he sneered, "All this drama over a few stupid gifts! You just have to tear the whole family apart, don't you? I never realized how disgustingly selfish you are!"

"I'm selfish?"

"On New Year's Eve, I slaved away in the kitchen for hours while the four of you sat laughing in the living room. Did I say a single word?"

"You bought Chloe a real diamond ring and a brand-new car! What about me? I'm your wife! What did you get me?"

"Ethan! Which one of us is the selfish monster?"

Ethan froze, caught completely off guard by my fury.

This wasn't the first time.

Ethan had an impossibly picky palate; he insisted that every vegetable had to be freshly picked that morning.

So every single day, I woke up at dawn to fight the crowds at the fresh markets.

On rainy days, it was a nightmare.

Before marrying him, I had never ridden public transit in my life; private chauffeurs had driven me everywhere.

I had asked Ethan more than once to buy me a cheap little runabout car, nothing fancy, just something to keep the rain off me.

He shot me down every time, claiming I barely left the house.

He argued that since he took the train to work, buying a car for a stay-at-home housewife was a pure waste of money.

Yet when it came to Chloe, he suddenly worried that taking public transit was too hard on a delicate girl.

What a joke. It wasn't that he didn't know how to care for someone.

He just believed that I wasn't even worthy of a cheap car.

I looked down at the noodles scattered across the carpet. Every shop had closed for the holiday; that bowl had taken me an hour to find.

A wave of bitter humiliation rose in my chest.

Ethan didn't care at all. His mind was entirely fixed on his assets. "Call the broker and cancel the listing right now! Otherwise, I swear to God I'm divorcing you!"

I let out a cold, mocking laugh. Threats of divorce had lost all their power over me.

"That penthouse was bought under my name before marriage. You and your family need to pack your trash and get out. My lawyer will deliver the papers shortly."

"Ethan, you and I are done."

My words were cold, deliberate, and final. Seeing my unshakeable resolve, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes.

"Claire, if you apologize to me right now, there's still room to fix this."

"I can even overlook the fact that you slapped me today."

Before he could finish his pathetic speech, I shoved him straight out the hotel room door.

Just like he had done to me that night.

Ethan pounded on the door, screaming from the hallway, "Claire, remember what you said tonight! You're going to regret this for the rest of your miserable life!"

Whether I would regret leaving him, I didn't know.

But marrying him? That was the single biggest regret of my entire existence.

Over the next few days, Ethan never contacted me again.

He probably had no idea I had already boarded a flight and left his city for good.

The moment I landed, I opened SnapChat and saw Chloe's latest story.

A picture of a gourmet breakfast: [Waking up to breakfast made by the man I love. Pure bliss.]

My heart gave a faint, bitter thud.

In seven years of marriage, Ethan had never cooked a single meal for me. He had never even washed a dish.

When I married him, he had just finished college, broke, without a car or a home. The moment I bought our house, he moved his parents in with their suitcases.

To earn his parents' approval, I did every single chore myself.

I transformed from a pampered billionaire heiress who never lifted a finger into a tired, hardened housewife.

And yet, seven years of devotion couldn't measure up to a single smile from Chloe.

I refreshed the feed. Ethan had already commented below: [It's my absolute honor to cook for you.]