Chapter 4

I stood in front of the mirror, placing each piece of jewelry into a cardboard box.

My movements were mechanical and numb.

These were all gifts Ethan had given me over the past three years—some for birthdays, some simply to commemorate a special occasion.

Now I didn’t want to keep a single one.

The clothes in my closet were bright, stylish, and fashionable. Most of them had been chosen by Ethan himself.

I pulled them down one by one, folded them into neat piles, and packed them into another box.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized something.

I had started to look more and more like Lily.

The packed boxes sat by the door.

I called the housekeepers over and told them they could dispose of everything however they wanted.

My gaze shifted to Muffin curled up on the sofa, sleeping lazily.

I walked over and gently lifted her into my arms, stroking her soft fur.

“Muffin, I need to send you away too.”

My voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible.

I was about to leave when the door opened.

Ethan stood in the doorway with his usual warm smile.

“Ava, where are you going?”

He noticed Muffin in my arms and the boxes of pet supplies.

Confusion filled his eyes.

“You’re giving her away?”

I nodded calmly.

“I’m too busy to take care of her. And you never cared much about this cat you bought on a whim anyway, did you?”

Over the past year, the number of times Ethan had fed Muffin could be counted on one hand.

He froze, apparently at a loss for words.

After a few seconds, he forced a smile.

“Maybe it’s better to give her away. Cats carry a lot of bacteria. It’s not good for you either.”

I didn’t answer.

I carried Muffin past him and left.

After arranging for Claire to take care of Muffin, I headed home.

As I passed a coffee shop, a familiar figure caught my eye.

It was Lily.

She was holding a coffee and about to walk inside. When she looked up and saw me, disdain flashed across her face.

“It’s been three years. I thought you’d have enough self-awareness to leave by now. Don’t even think about taking my brother’s love away from me.”

I stopped and looked at her coldly.

“Yes, it’s been three years. And you two look less and less like siblings. Does your fiancé know?”

Her face changed.

The coffee cup nearly slipped from her hand.

“What are you talking about?”

“Am I?” I let out a cold laugh. “Then tell me—are you really going to claim that what you feel for Ethan is nothing but sibling affection?”

Her face flushed red with anger.

“Ava Bennett, who do you think you are? You’re cursed. You brought misfortune to both your parents. Your mother died because of you. If it weren’t for my brother, no one would ever have married you…”

“Shut up!”

I roared and cut her off.

Rage drowned out my reason.

I shoved her.

She stumbled backward, completely unprepared. Clutching her chest, she fell to the ground and began gasping in pain.

Then I heard hurried footsteps.

I turned around.

Ethan was running toward us.

The moment he saw Lily on the ground, his expression changed dramatically.

He rushed over, helped her up, then scooped her into his arms and ran toward the hospital.

“Ava, are you insane? Don’t you know she has a heart condition?”

I stood where I was.

The cold wind cut across my face, but I couldn’t feel the chill.

Ethan’s figure carrying Lily away gradually blurred before my eyes.

Two days later, I finished packing all my belongings.

With my passport and plane ticket in hand, I walked out of the house without looking back.

Lily wasn’t seriously ill, but she stayed in the hospital for two days anyway.

Ethan remained by her side the entire time.

It wasn’t until Monday night that Ethan finally remembered it was my birthday.

He checked his phone again and again.

I hadn’t contacted him in two whole days.

A sudden panic seized him. A vague sense of unease began spreading through his chest.

He had his assistant buy a cake and a bouquet of flowers and deliver them to the house.

Not long afterward, his assistant called.

“Mr. Carter, there’s no one home.”

The assistant sounded cautious.

“There’s a piece of paper on the table. It’s… a divorce agreement.”