Chapter 2

Even though I knew Ethan and I had been married for five years, this was still the first time I'd seen him up close from my perspective.

I had to admit, there was a reason he'd been my teenage crush. Just having that face in front of me improved my mood considerably.

Even with his cold expression, I didn't find him particularly off-putting.

Seeing that I didn't speak, he frowned slightly. "Aria, what are you up to now?"

As he spoke, he strode into the closet, passing right by me without pausing. He selected a robe and came back out.

I turned to look at him. "Up to?"

From the time he suddenly came home until now, I hadn't said a word. How was I up to something?

Ethan's dark eyes glanced at me. "Haven't you always thrown yourself at me the moment I get home? Changing tactics now?"

I was a bit shocked.

Had I really been so forward after marrying Ethan?

But I kept my face neutral, only saying flatly, "Oh, that won't happen anymore."

I had expected Ethan to be relieved. But instead, his brow furrowed even more, his tone growing increasingly impatient as he looked at me. "I've been very busy with work lately. I don't have time to indulge your dramatics."

I stayed silent. Seeing this, Ethan's gaze suddenly turned cold. "Aria, stop trying to do anything to Olivia. She hasn't done anything wrong. Even if you threaten suicide again, it won't work."

I was taken aback, my emotions complicated.

Zack had already told me most of what had happened between Ethan and me.

Basically, I loved Ethan, Ethan loved Olivia, and I was the clown in this love triangle who could only constantly cause trouble for Olivia, earning more and more of Ethan's disgust.

This suicide attempt was because I was jealous of how Ethan doted on Olivia, so I privately attacked Olivia's company and slandered their artists. But Ethan unhesitatingly chose to support her -

This undoubtedly told everyone in their circle that my position as Mrs. Sinclair was in name only. I didn't even rank as high as Olivia's pinky finger in Ethan's heart.

So I lost my composure and tried to use suicide to win back Ethan's heart.

The result was predictable. A man who was already tired of me wouldn't suddenly cherish me because of a suicide attempt. He'd only find me more troublesome.

Seeing I still wasn't speaking, Ethan lost patience and went to the bathroom.

I let out a sigh of relief, flopping onto the large bed, my mind in chaos.

After all, I'd lost the memories of these past few years. I truly didn't understand why I would have gone so crazy.

My 18-year-old self had always looked down on people who lost themselves in relationships. Now I had apparently become the very thing I despised, ready to die for a man.

I never imagined I'd see such a day!

I was lost in thought, not yet sure how to handle my current situation, when the blanket beside me was lifted and a tall, firm body lay down next to me.

The sudden warmth startled me. I turned my head to see Ethan looking at me with those pitch-black eyes, his usual cold indifference now tinged with a hint of suppressed intensity.

I stammered, "W-what are you doing?"

Though I had lost my memories, based on what I knew, Ethan and I should have a pretty bad relationship, right?

We were probably even sleeping in separate beds. So why was he so naturally lying down next to me?

Ethan seemed not to notice my panic. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me into his embrace without a word. Then he pressed me beneath him, his calloused fingers expertly finding my most sensitive spots, igniting unfamiliar sensations—

"Ethan!" I couldn't help crying out his name. "Don't touch me!"