Chapter 4

He began pacing around the kitchen, inspecting every corner as if he were determined to find something wrong.

He ran his fingers over the cabinets and dishes, desperately searching for some flaw.

But no matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t find anything to criticize.

His brows drew together. He stomped his foot, then abandoned even the pretense of finding evidence and simply began attacking me out loud.

“Why is this floor so dirty? And this pot—how long have you been using it? Shouldn’t you replace it?”

As he spoke, he deliberately struck the rim of the pot, creating an unpleasant metallic clang.

“And this soup looks so greasy. No wonder everyone says Claire has gained weight since her comeback. It’s because your cooking is so oily.”

“Poor Claire. She’s a major star, yet she has to live this kind of miserable life with you.”

I remained silent.

Ethan’s behavior was clearly meant to test my limits, but strangely, I felt calm.

Claire staggered into the kitchen.

When she saw Ethan causing trouble, her brows tightened slightly. But she quickly returned to her usual expression.

“Ethan, what are you doing in the kitchen?” she asked softly.

Her voice was full of indulgence and patience.

Ethan immediately changed his expression.

He walked over to Claire, took her hand tightly, and began telling her about his “grievances.”

“Claire, I just couldn’t stand by and watch anymore, so I wanted to help Alex clean up the kitchen.”

“But you just drank, and you’re trying to manage your weight. Look at this pasta—it’s so high in fat and salt. I couldn’t bear to let you eat it.”

As he spoke, he deliberately made himself look heartbroken.

Claire gazed at him with a patience and tenderness I had never seen from her.

“Ethan, thank goodness I have you. My Ethan is such a thoughtful sweetheart!”

Then she turned toward me.

There wasn’t a trace of emotion in my eyes. I continued working mechanically.

Claire’s temper flared even more.

“Alex! What are you trying to pull now? Acting like you don’t care and pretending to be so mature? Your dead expression is miserable to look at!”

“You’re not even close to Ethan! He and I share the same goals, and he’s considerate and thoughtful. All you do is make me angry.”

The pasta was ready.

I carried the bowl out without listening to another word from behind me and slowly walked toward the living room.

Then I returned to the bedroom and gently shut the door, cutting myself off from the storm about to erupt outside.

Exhausted, I sat on the edge of the bed.

My thoughts were as scattered as snow in the wind.

Every word they had just said struck my heart like a hammer. The pain was so sharp I could barely breathe.

But fate clearly had no intention of stopping there.