Chapter 2

When I closed the study door.

The girl he was playing with maliciously asked: "She's been waiting for you, does she want to... with you?"

Ethan Parker instinctively looked back.

Probably afraid I would hear.

The door was left with a small gap, I stood where he couldn't see me, and heard him say: "Can you stop disgusting me on purpose? Just thinking about that smell on her body makes me lose my appetite."

The girl's mocking laughter was like sharp knives, cutting me to pieces.

She continued to ask: "You're not even thirty yet, why suffer with her? Just get a divorce."

"Forget it," Ethan Parker hesitated.

I thought he still couldn't bear to part with me.

Who knew he would say pityingly: "She's almost forty, an old woman. Who would want her besides me?"

My breathing became irregular, and my hands started trembling uncontrollably.

I ran to the bathroom in a panic, looked up, and found my face had already turned pale.

Ethan Parker didn't notice anything unusual.

But in the past, if I just sneezed once, he would make a fuss, take my temperature, and make chicken soup for me.

Afraid I would be even slightly uncomfortable.

When did he change?

It was after I turned thirty-five.

In this year and more, we rarely communicated.

I always thought I was too busy with work and neglected him.

I never imagined that his disgust had shown signs long ago.

No longer turning on a lamp late at night, waiting for me to come home.

No longer holding my waist intimately, calling me "babe" when things got passionate.

No longer taking every little thing about me to heart, fearing to be negligent.

It's hard to imagine that this man, who now thinks I smell like an old person and is disgusted with me in every way,

Once fought with his whole family, was kicked out of the house, to be with me, a woman eight years older than him, still firmly holding my hand, never giving up.

At that time he said: "I don't care what others think, you're the best in my heart."

"Whether you're twenty, thirty, or forty, fifty, in my heart, you'll always be an eighteen-year-old girl."

"Even if the whole world disapproves of us, I still want to be with you."

"Let me take care of you for life, okay?"

I raised my hand to smell myself.

Because I was taking medicine to regulate my body, I could only smell a very faint scent of Chinese herbs.

Like a string suddenly snapped, I took all the perfumes from the cabinet and sprayed them on myself.

The perfume bottles fell to the ground, the broken pieces flew up, leaving a bright red wound on my leg.

Blood flowed profusely.

The entire bathroom was filled with a suffocating strong fragrance.

Ethan Parker pushed open the door: "Rachel, what did you break?"

He didn't even notice that my leg was bleeding profusely, but just complained: "It's so stuffy, clean it up quickly! It smells terrible!"

But that was perfume.

It doesn't stink.

At that moment, I suddenly realized.

Ethan Parker just didn't love me anymore.

Why should I punish myself for his lack of love?