Chapter 4

Frost's social media feed had become all about Ethan.

Every caption was a prayer for his recovery, for his company to overcome its difficulties.

In the photos, my daughter always nestled against Ethan, as if they were the family of three.

I called a cleaning service to clear out everything I didn't need.

The clothes and gaming console she'd given me, the necklace and watch I'd given her, the stuffed animals and toys I'd bought for my daughter.

The cleaner kept asking if I was really sure I wanted to throw it all away.

I never changed my mind.

After everything was tossed out, Frost came home.

She stared at the empty house, her face full of shock.

"Why did you throw everything away?"

"The house is being sold anyway. We won't need any of this. Why are you suddenly back?"

Frost's first words were a complaint.

"Today is Emma's birthday. Mom and Dad reserved a private room at a restaurant. Did you really forget?"

How could I forget my own daughter's birthday?

It's just that Frost's parents didn't like me. Every time, it was just the two siblings taking my daughter. There was never a place for me.

When we entered the private room, we found a strange young woman already sitting inside.

Frost's mother beckoned to Ethan to sit down.

"Ethan, look at your sister's kid—she's already six years old, and you still don't even have a girlfriend. How can that be?"

"This is my colleague's daughter. You young people should get to know each other. If you're compatible, get engaged quickly. I'm still waiting to hold a grandson."

Frost's face immediately turned ugly. She gripped her daughter's hand tightly, her eyes reddening.

"Mom! You want a grandson—isn't Emma right here? Why are you forcing Ethan to marry someone he doesn't love!"

"What nonsense. Who says he doesn't love her? Feelings develop over time, just like you and Zachary. Didn't you two have a good life after marriage?"

"What I want is a grandson. What you gave birth to can only be considered a granddaughter from your side of the family."

Frost broke down crying:

"That's because you don't know how miserable I've been since getting married!"

"And I specifically let my daughter take my last name. She's a Cole child. If Ethan agrees, I'll let Emma call him Daddy!"

My daughter crisply called out "Daddy."

Smoothly, as if she'd practiced it a thousand times.

My heart felt crushed by a boulder. The surgical incision from the kidney donation throbbed with phantom pain, but I knew it was all in my head.

What really hurt was my heart.

Frost's father, who had been silent, finally rebuked her.

"You are you, and your brother is your brother. What does it mean for your daughter to call your brother Daddy?"

"Sit down and eat properly. Stop making a spectacle in front of this young lady."

Tears streamed down Frost's face.

She turned to leave but didn't notice the server entering with a stew.

The server stumbled several steps from the collision, and scalding soup splashed everywhere.

In that critical moment, both Frost and my daughter lunged toward Ethan.

And I, forgotten where I stood, was drenched head-on with boiling water close to 200 degrees Fahrenheit.

My skin burned with searing pain, like being roasted over a fire. After struggling for a few seconds, I lost consciousness.

I don't know how long passed before I heard voices.

My eyelids felt sewn shut, but my ears could still hear.

It was Frost's mother's voice.

"Zachary, are you awake?"

I felt someone grasp my hand—rough, warm hands.

"The doctor said you have second-degree burns on your face and body. It'll take months to heal. Mom feels terrible for you, but..."

She paused, her voice becoming cautious.

"We parents can see what's going on between Frost and Ethan."

"But Ethan is the only son of the Cole family. You can't ruin his reputation."

"You've already married Frost and had a daughter. Just turn a blind eye. Men need to be magnanimous."

I wanted to speak, but my throat felt stuffed with cotton.

Frost's father's voice joined in, low and stern.

"That's right. Ethan said when you're discharged, he'll give you some money. You can find a woman on the side."

"As long as you don't divorce, we're still one family."

"Dad knows you're being wronged. But think about it—Emma is still young. She can't be without her mother."

"If you really divorce, you definitely won't get custody. You're in kidney failure. You can't even support yourself."

Tears seeped from beneath my bandages, rolling over my burned skin. It hurt like being cut with a knife.

But I couldn't tell if it was the wound that hurt, or if my heart hurt more.