Chapter 1

In the third year of my marriage to Ethan Williams, his “first love” reappeared in his life, this time as a struggling sales clerk.

Ethan, overcome with sympathy for her fall from grace, bought the entire store as a “reunion gift.”

His grand gesture caused a sensation through our social circles. Meanwhile, I, his wife, became the joke of the town—Mrs. Williams, the pitiful fool.

But I said nothing. Instead, I sent the newly opened store a polite bouquet of flowers. Then, clad in black, I went to his brother’s grave and cried my heart out.

“Ethan,” I whispered, my tears soaking the cold marble, “I’ve finally found a way to break free from your brother. He may have your eyes, but he’s nothing like you.”

My words hung in the air, heavy with grief, until I heard a familiar voice behind me:

“What the hell did you just say?”

The day after Ethan’s lavish display of affection, the group chat was buzzing with gossip.

[Ethan really went all out for her. Buying an entire store? Must be true love!] [It has to be her—the infamous first love. When’s he going to introduce her to us? We’d love to see what the real deal looks like.]

Their comments were mocking, dismissive. None of them cared that I, Mrs. Williams, was still in the group.

My hands trembled as I read their messages. For once, I didn’t swallow my anger. Instead, I quietly exited the group chat.

Ethan’s call came not long after.

I was pinning a white flower to my lapel when my phone buzzed. I put him on speaker, freeing my hands.

“Zoe,” he said, his tone sharp, “what the hell were you thinking, sending flowers to Claire?”

“I’m your wife,” I replied calmly. “Sending flowers to a friend is just basic courtesy.”

He let out a short, scornful laugh. “Don’t think I don’t see through you. You just wanted to flaunt your status as ‘Mrs. Williams’ and humiliate Claire.”

“Let me remind you,” he continued coldly, “any status you have, I gave it to you. Don’t forget your place. Go pick up your pathetic flowers and apologize to Claire. Now.”

His voice was so loud it startled me, making my hand slip. The pin pricked my finger, and I let out a small gasp of pain.

On the other end of the line, Ethan sneered. “Zoe, don’t play these cheap little tricks with me. They don’t work. If you don’t show up today, don’t bother waiting for me to come home. Ever.”

“Oh, and one more thing—quitting the group chat? That’s disrespectful to my friends. I’ll deal with you for that later. You chose to marry me. You knew what that meant. This is what you signed up for.”

The line went dead.

I looked down at the crimson stain blooming on my blouse. The sharp sting in my chest was nothing compared to the ache in my heart. Ethan always knew exactly how to hurt me.

He wasn’t like my Ethan.

The Ethan I once knew would never have spoken to me this way.

I lowered my eyes, pinned the flower in place, and thought back to the choice Ethan had mentioned—the choice that had led me to this life.