Chapter 3

The next morning, while I stepped out to grab a coffee downstairs, Ethan returned.

I pushed open the door and walked straight into his panicked eyes.

"Are you... packing for a trip?"

His voice shook. Instinctively, he reached forward and grabbed my wrist.

"You know I can't function without you."

He had seen the neatly zipped suitcases sitting by the entryway.

I stared into his dark, brooding eyes and let out a self-deprecating laugh.

Right.

Ethan couldn't function without me.

I had to be there to ground him, soothe him, and pull him back every single time his darkness flared up.

Everyone in his circle took that for granted.

The very first time Ethan stood on that rooftop ledge ready to end it all, I had arrived three minutes late because of a mandatory client meeting.

His best friend had shoved me, screaming with bloodshot eyes, "If you love him so much, why the hell couldn't you take care of him properly?!"

I had drowned in self-blame.

I wiped my tears while looking into Ethan’s hollow, vacant gaze.

Even though I was the one who threatened to jump with him to force him off that ledge, I was terrified to think what would have happened if he had truly let go.

From that day on, I never stayed late at the office. I never took business trips.

I didn't dare risk him self-harming over some fleeting memory of Chloe.

One by one, I peeled his fingers off my wrist.

"It's a business trip."

"An indefinite one."

Ethan froze, his breath catching as he demanded, "Why? What are you talking about?"

A faint, mocking smile touched my lips. "Didn't you find your answer in your Instagram post yesterday?"

Ethan's brow furrowed, his lips parting and closing several times before he snapped defensively, "You want to throw away three years just because of a single photo of me and Chloe?"

He didn't mention her faking her death. He didn't mention his lies.

He reduced everything to a single photo.

I nodded firmly.

"Yes. We're done."

"As if you could actually let him go!"

The bedroom door was violently kicked open, and Chloe strutted out, her head held high.

An ultrasound scan and a handwritten letter were slapped harshly onto the hardwood floor.

Chloe curved her painted lips, greeting me with effortless cruelty.

"Long time no see, Nora. You've really learned how to trap a man, haven't you?"

My pupils shrank. I recognized those items instantly—they were from the bottom of my luggage.

The only keepsakes tied to Ethan that I had planned on taking with me.

Our lost baby.

The child we lost to an accidental miscarriage during a period when Ethan's therapist warned that his fragile mental state couldn't handle the stress of impending fatherhood.

"I've seen plenty of manipulative women like you," Chloe scoffed, crossing her arms. "You talk a big game about breaking up, but it's just playing hard to get. You left these out on purpose to guilt-trip Ethan!"

Ethan glanced down at the letter on the floor, his eyes darting away in shame.

Yet his tone quickly shifted, latching onto her narrative.

"Chloe is right."

"If you truly wanted to leave, you wouldn't have kept these."

He grabbed my suitcases and locked them inside the bedroom.

"Either you prove to me that you genuinely want to end this, or you admit you're just acting out of jealousy and apologize to Chloe."

"Otherwise, you're not walking out that door."