Chapter 2

Elena POV

The smile on Ethan’s face froze instantly.

After less than half a second, he smoothed over the stiffness, reaching out to cover my cool hand.

"What are you talking about? Have you been cooped up inside letting your thoughts run wild?" Ethan searched my eyes.

I didn't pull away, letting him hold my hand.

His tone softened to a gentle murmur. "Between organizing the family gala, work has piled up like a mountain. I’ve neglected you lately. Once this week passes, I'll clear my schedule and take you to the lake house for a while, okay?"

He spoke with complete sincerity. Not a single flaw showed in his eyes.

I followed his thread. "Since I'm bored, why not invite Madelyn over for dinner tomorrow? I’d like to thank her in person for lightening my load all these years."

The fingers resting on my hand stiffened violently.

Ethan’s mouth twitched into a forced chuckle. "Don't be ridiculous. Why bring some irrelevant outsider into our home?"

"Oh?" I met his gaze dead-on. "You don't even have the courage to share a meal with her?"

Ethan picked up his water glass, took a long drink, his throat bobbing, but he couldn't find an answer.

I didn't push him further.

I pulled my hand back, reached into his jacket hanging over the back of the chair, pulled out the velvet jewelry box, and placed it on the table, sliding it right under his nose.

"My wrists are too weak to tie the ribbon. Wrap it up for me so you can hand it to her yourself," I said.

Ethan stared at the box, his breathing noticeably heavy.

I waited for him to speak.

Even if he panicked and asked what it was or where I found it, I could pretend he still felt a shred of shame after being caught.

In the past, even if I handed him a grocery note, he would read it over three times.

Ethan didn't ask a thing.

He picked up the velvet box, lowered his eyes, and smoothed the ribbon. His long fingers were steady, practicing a routine he had clearly done hundreds of times.

I opened the side drawer, pulled out another gift box wrapped identically, and slid it alongside the first.

"At the gala, in front of everyone, you will hand this to Madelyn," I said, looking down at his dark hair. "Not a second early, not a second late."

Ethan’s hands paused briefly before he gathered both boxes into his palm.

"Okay. Whatever you want," he said.

Sitting across from him, I watched him tie a neat, square bow.

In Ethan's eyes, I had long been conditioned into a helpless invalid, someone who didn't even have the right to suspect him.

The very last hesitation in my chest dissolved.

There was no need for an explanation. He couldn't afford the truth, and I found it sickening.

After dinner, Ethan cleared the table. While doing the dishes, he went over the details for the gala, reminding me that high-profile guests would be everywhere and that I shouldn't stand for too long, insisting I stay by his side at the head table.

Sitting in the dim living room, I murmured soft agreements.

Ethan’s phone buzzed.

He dried his hands, checked the illuminated screen, and turned around with a calm expression. "Elena, the press room has an urgent editorial deadline. I’ll take this on the balcony."

He pulled the sliding glass door nearly shut behind him.

Through the crack, I heard his voice drop low—a tenderness I hadn't heard from his lips in years.

"...That cake was just something I made for her because of her condition. Don't take it to heart."

Ethan coaxed gently, "I already cleared the main seats for the gala. I'm taking both of you. And the pink backpack Naya wanted, I had my assistant bring it back from New York. I didn't forget."

From the receiver came faint muffled sobs, a woman complaining about him fussing over a useless invalid all day.

Ethan chuckled softly, his tone infinitely patient.

I sat in the darkness, listening to every single word.

A birthday cake baked once a year was a sacred comfort to me, but in his words, it was merely an offhand chore.

One moment he promised to take me to the lake to clear my head, and the next he was on the balcony promising to spend the entire gala by their side.

From the same mouth, facing different directions, spilled nothing but lies.

I used to worry about how hard Ethan worked, thinking he bore every storm outside just to protect me.

Today, I finally understood. He navigated two separate lives with effortless ease, and on my end, I was nothing more than a prop to maintain his image as a devoted husband.