Ethan had a custom-built car. It was heavily modified with a highly complex dashboard, completely different from a regular car. I had no idea how to drive it. He treated this car like his ultimate treasure. In our six years together, he was willing to give me anything—except this car. He wouldn’t even let me touch it. I wasn’t even supposed to stare at it for too long. Once, unable to resist my curiosity, I secretly took the car keys. That was the first time he ever raised his voice at me. Afterward, he spent hours alone in the garage. That night, he didn’t hold me to sleep, which was completely unlike him. Today, he called me to pick him up from a bar. He was slurring his words, completely wasted, yet he kept muttering under his breath, “Don’t touch my car…” I rushed to the bar and helped him out. He was too drunk to even stand straight. Helpless, I had to order a private driver through a designated-driver app. Before long, a woman ran up to us, panting. “Hi, did you request a private driver?” I nodded. She slid into the driver’s seat. Familiarly, she started Ethan’s custom car without a moment of hesitation. “You seem very familiar with this car,” I remarked. “Yeah,” she replied, nodding. “My ex-husband had the exact same one.” I remained silent. Ethan, who had been fast asleep with his head on my shoulder, suddenly opened his eyes.
In the rearview mirror, Ethan was staring at her. My heart sank. “Really?” “What a coincidence.” Ethan’s breathing turned heavy. After a moment, he closed his eyes again. He silently shifted his head off my shoulder and rested it against the car seat. It was dead silent for the rest of the ride. But I knew he wasn’t asleep. Taking advantage of the dim light as we drove through a tunnel, he glanced at the woman twice. His gaze was complicated and unreadable. “Were you married?” I suddenly asked. I was asking the woman, but Ethan spoke up first. “No.” “They didn’t make it to the altar,” Ethan said, his voice cold. “She ran away.” “In the end, she didn’t get the life she wanted anyway.” “I bet she regrets it now. Too bad for her, I’m engaged.” These words didn’t sound like they were meant for me. The next second, the car suddenly lost control. It spun twice and slammed hard into a streetlamp. My head whipped forward and crashed against the front seat. A sharp pain flared up, and my vision went blurry. “Ethan… it hurts…” No response. When I finally regained some consciousness, I heard Ethan shouting at the woman outside the car. “How can you still be so reckless?!” She was terrified, sobbing uncontrollably. “The car… I’ll pay you back…” “Can you even afford it?!” Ethan roared. The woman flinched. “We… we built this car together… I bought the parts. I know exactly how to rebuild it…” “Chloe!” Ethan cut her off, his voice cracking. “Would it kill you to just show me some weakness for once?!” “You deserve to end up like this!” Through the cracked window, I watched Ethan. He was holding Chloe’s shoulders, frantically checking her for injuries. In an instant, I felt cold from head to toe. I tried to speak, but my throat felt blocked by something heavy. I couldn’t swallow, and I couldn’t breathe. The rest of the ride home was a blur of numbness. The car jolted over bumps. I forced myself to sit up straight, flinching away when Ethan tried to put his arm around me. Finally, we reached the garage. The smart camera scanned Chloe’s face as she stepped out, and the garage door unlocked automatically. “Welcome home, Master,” a mechanical female voice chirped. Chloe froze. I froze, too. My mind went completely blank. I turned to look at Ethan, but he quickly avoided my eyes. Chloe pulled up her PayPal QR code. I took a deep breath, trying my best to maintain my dignity. Beep. Her Snapchat profile popped up as a linked contact. It was the exact same account Ethan always stared at in a daze. It was the account he didn’t have added, yet had forced his assistant to memorize, searching for her on hiring apps. “Ethan, did you invest in this designated-driver app?” I asked. Ethan blinked in surprise, then nodded. “Just a small investment for fun. Why?” I ignored him, sent the payment, and walked straight upstairs. Over the years, he had invested in so many platforms. Trendy apps, startups, all kinds of industries. But there was one constant. They all had an employee. Named Chloe Bennet. “Valerie, can you make me a cup of almond milk?” Seeing that I was ignoring him, Ethan shamelessly followed me. “You didn’t have dinner because you came to pick me up, right? How about I make you some pasta?” For a few seconds, I stayed silent. The words hovered on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down. I wanted to say, Let’s call off the engagement. Let’s act as if these six years never happened. Let’s pretend my feelings were just wasted. But when I thought of the hard times we had shared, of the everyday life we built together, I felt like suffocating. I could only hide in the kitchen under the excuse of making almond milk. The pot of water began to steam. My eyes grew wet and blurry. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his long legs, casually playing with our engagement ring in his hand. “Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?” he asked. Next month was supposed to be our wedding. “Ethan, I don’t want to marry you anymore.” The kitchen fell dead silent. The smile faded from his face. He raised an eyebrow, looking at me as if he hadn’t understood. I repeated myself. “We are not getting married.” “The engagement is off.”
Ethan didn’t say anything to that. That night, I slept on the very edge of the bed, my back turned to him. Suddenly, a large hand wrapped around my waist, pulling me tightly into his chest. His grip was suffocating. “Stop being mad. Just go to sleep.” I stared blankly at the photo on the nightstand. It was taken during our poorest year. Ethan had borrowed an old camera just to take it. The gear was outdated, the background was a dingy, cheap room, but the cubic zirconia ring on my ring finger sparkled brightly. It was the record of his first proposal to me. Memories and photos had been yellowed by time. The cheap ring band had scratched through countless memories, but he didn’t seem to care anymore. He used to be the quickest to notice my mood changes. Now, he couldn’t even tell if I was genuinely heartbroken or just throwing a tantrum. “Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice was barely a whisper. “Why didn’t you just confess that the person you stalk every day is the ex you almost married?” “What am I to you, Ethan?” Ethan’s breathing hitched. He grabbed his phone and tossed it into my lap. “It’s been over between her and me for a long time. There is no way we are getting back together.” “If you don’t believe me, check it yourself. There’s no need to keep clinging to this.” I took a deep breath. My nose stung, and I barely forced back the tears. “Never mind.” Ethan sat up. When he was drunk, he talked too much. He became stubborn and unfiltered. “I don’t get it. What is there to cry about?” “Did I deprive you of money? Or love? Valerie, I swear on my life, I have never wronged you. You’re just overthinking things.” He paused, his alcohol-scented breath brushing against my face. “Can’t we both just take a step back?” “I really don’t have the time to constantly guess what’s on your mind. Just be good, okay?” I pulled the blanket over my head and closed my eyes. “Stop talking.” He paused for a second. Then he started again. “Valerie, I think you—” “I said stop talking!” The bedroom fell so quiet that only the sound of our breathing remained. His, and mine. “Shut up,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “Can you not hear me? Shut your mouth.” We ended the night on a terrible note. Our cold war lasted for nearly two weeks. During that time, he sent me a few text messages, trying to throw me a bone so I would drop it. I didn’t reply. When we finally met again, it was Ethan’s birthday party. He had drunk so much that his chronic stomach ulcer flared up. His friend called me to pick him up. “Don’t touch me!” “Let go!” A crowd of people couldn’t hold Ethan down. He usually didn’t turn red when he drank, but right now, a dull flush spread from his neck to his ears. Empty liquor bottles littered the floor around his feet. He was completely, utterly wasted. “Look who’s here! Stop acting like a damn fool!” Carter said, pushing Ethan toward me. Looking at the drunk man, I frowned. A surge of annoyance rose from the bottom of my heart. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. “We’re going home.” The man who was acting wild a second ago instantly quieted down. Ethan gently squeezed my hand. “Babe, you go back first.” “I’m fine.” His stomach issue was a remnant from his early days of heavy business drinking. When it got bad, the pain would keep him in bed for days. I used to have to hold him and massage his stomach for hours just to make him feel better. “You know your own body!” I tugged at him. “Let’s go home!” He didn’t budge. “Then I’ll wait for you,” I said. “It’s late,” Ethan glanced at his watch. “Your period is coming up in a couple of days, right? Don’t stay up late. You’ll get cramps.” “Go home and take some painkillers first just in case.” “Go on. I’ll have the driver take you home.” It felt like he really didn’t want me to enter his social circle. Carter pulled me out of the VIP room. “Chloe was here earlier. He’s in a bad mood.” “Between you guys…” Before he could finish, I heard a faint crying sound. Walking down the hallway, I saw Chloe standing by the restroom. Her face was covered in tears. She instinctively turned her head away, quickly wiping her eyes. “Miss Moore,” she said, her voice muffled. “If you hadn’t interfered, Ethan wouldn’t hate me this much, would he?” Only then did I notice she was clutching a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. On it, the words 【I Owe You One Favor】 were written. “He wrote this for me himself,” Chloe smiled bitterly. “But he won’t honor it now.” “If I had made up my mind sooner back then, if I hadn’t run away right before the wedding in March, maybe things would be different.” “If you knew that I once had a child with Ethan, would you still marry him?”
The color drained from my face. My heart pounded like a heavy drum, each beat sending a jolt of pain through my nerves. “Too bad the baby didn’t survive,” Chloe whispered, tracing the paper. “He hates me. He even hates the memory of that baby. He didn’t even show up to the funeral.” She looked up at me. “Are you twenty-six this year?” I pressed my lips together. “No wonder Ethan was so desperate to marry you this year.” Chloe pulled a photo out of her bag. It was a wedding photo. On the back, there was a date. This was me at twenty-six. She shoved the photo into my hand. “Miss Moore, has anyone ever told you that you look exactly like I did when I was younger?” “Want to see?” In that split second, I felt nothing but pain. An overwhelming, suffocating pain. It took all my strength just to raise the photo. I saw the radiant woman in the picture, and on her ring finger was the exact same engagement ring I wore. Tears poured out of my eyes, splashing loudly onto the floor. I felt a string snap in my head. Without another thought, I began to tear the photo to pieces. I held it under the running tap, ripping it over and over until it became a mushy pile of white pulp. I locked myself inside a toilet stall. My engagement ring slipped down the drain with the rushing water. Outside the door, Ethan’s voice echoed. “Money! I have so much money now!” He was drunk, sounding like he was laughing and crying at the same time. “Why couldn’t I have had it sooner…” “If I had been successful back then, would things have been different? Chloe, I don’t blame you… You just made the best choice you could at the time… It’s just that it hurts. My heart hurts so much…” “We can’t go back.” “Chloe, please come to my wedding.” “…” I walked out of the stall. I saw Ethan leaning heavily on Chloe, his body almost completely draped over hers. “Ethan.” Maybe he didn’t hear me. Or maybe, he just didn’t want to look back. He simply walked away, holding onto Chloe, disappearing from my sight. A sharp, sudden cramp flared up in my lower abdomen. I looked down. Red was blooming on my white pants. At that moment, I thought, Ethan guessed right. My period really did come early. Only this time, it hurt more than ever before. Eventually, the cleaning lady found me. She was too terrified to speak clearly, stuttering into her phone as she called 911: “Blood! There’s so much blood!” The streetlights flashed outside the ambulance window. My consciousness drifted in and out. In the haze, a voice seemed to ask, Was it worth it? The two years we spent running from debt collectors, moving from place to place with no real home—was it worth it? Starving and freezing with him, working multiple part-time jobs until my health was ruined—was it worth it? Helping him find clients, getting tricked at a business dinner and almost getting assaulted—was it worth it? Pain flooded every single pore of my body. My blood was hot. My tears were hot. Even the April breeze was warm. Yet my teeth chattered, and my body shook. It felt as if I had been stripped naked and thrown into the dead of winter, my flesh turning blue, my mind going numb. “It’s so cold…” “Ethan, warm me up…” I mumbled instinctively. My mind drifted back to that cold winter night when we huddled together in a drafty, tiny rented room, shivering. Ethan would always pull my freezing feet and press them against his warm stomach. “Sss—it’s freezing! Stop moving.” “Keep squirming and see if I don’t throw you out into the snow!” I would just laugh, spoiled by his affection, and slide my cold hands down the back of his neck. “I want to freeze you!” “Ethan, you have to keep me warm for the rest of my life!” “Of course I will,” he had grumbled, making a face. But where was he now? I believed him for six years. Ethan, you liar.
“You need to keep your emotions in check. Many early-stage pregnancies are lost due to severe emotional stress,” the doctor advised. “We’ve stabilized things for now. Stay in the hospital for two days for observation. If everything is fine, you can be discharged.” I stared blankly at the ceiling. I remembered a long time ago, a doctor told me I would probably never get pregnant. My body was too broken. My menstrual cramps were so severe they could cause me to faint. All of it was from staying up late and drinking heavily with clients back in the day to help Ethan’s business. After that, Ethan never took me near baby stores again, and he never brought up the topic of children. We both thought we would never have one. Yet, it chose to appear at a time like this. “Do we need to notify your family?” the doctor asked. I gently shook my head. Beside me, my phone buzzed constantly. It was Ethan calling. Annoyed, I turned it off completely. I spent the next two days in peaceful, quiet solitude. When it was time to sign the discharge papers, I finally turned my phone back on. A flood of messages and missed calls popped up. Where are you? Call me back. Or at least text me. The restaurant staff said you were taken to the hospital? Is it serious? Which hospital are you in? I’ll come see you as soon as I get back from my business trip. With his current position in the company, he didn’t need to go on business trips anymore. I casually checked his IP address on social media. He was in Boston. And Chloe’s Twitter account had just posted a new update. 【First time driving interstate. 30 hours round trip to Boston. So nervous.】 I guess he just couldn’t let her go, so he secretly followed her. “No need,” I replied to his text. “I’m going back to pack my things. I’ll be moving out soon.” The next morning, I loaded my suitcases into the trunk and sat in the Porsche Ethan had gifted me. He bought it for me when his first major project got funded. I had treasured it so much that I barely drove it over the years. I never expected that starting it up again would be for the purpose of leaving him. Vroom— The movement pulled at my lower abdomen, and I instinctively let go of the gas pedal. I decided to hire a private driver. To my surprise, ten minutes later, it was Chloe who opened the driver’s door. “Please fasten your seatbelt.” My first instinct was to cancel the ride. But it was early morning, and getting another driver would take too long. I simply turned my head away, closed my eyes, and rested against the seat, pretending to sleep. “Don’t want to live the life of a rich wife anymore?” Chloe laughed. “How ungrateful. If you were in my shoes, driving long distances without sleep and having to take another job right after, do you think you could survive?” She talked to herself the entire way. I didn’t utter a single word. “Ethan bought me a villa, and he gave me a black card. He said he wanted to make sure I’d be taken care of for the rest of my life…” The car speed slowly began to drop. “But he told me to never contact him again.” “Why? I lost my baby, I lost my home, and now I don’t even have a single shred of hope left…” I turned to look at her, but before I could react, the car suddenly accelerated and crashed straight into the guardrail. BANG— I don’t know how much time passed. I opened my eyes in a daze, seeing the gray sky and Ethan’s panicked face hovering over me. The Porsche was sturdier than Chloe had anticipated. “She grabbed the steering wheel, and the car hit the guardrail,” Chloe sobbed, sitting on the ground. “I was so scared, Ethan… I almost died…” I wanted to laugh. Her acting was so terrible, her excuse so ridiculous. If this were a novel, readers would scream at how cliché it was. But Ethan believed her. He couldn’t bear to see Chloe cry. A single tear from her was enough to make him lose his mind. It made him completely ignore my condition just to shake my arm, accusing and pointing fingers at me. “I already agreed to send her away! Valerie, how can you be so vicious? Do you really have to drive her to suicide?” “Are you insane?!” I remained silent for a long time. Then, I looked up, smiled, and swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my throat. “Yeah.” “I left my hometown to follow you, endured endless hardships, believed you over and over, and wasted six years of my youth on you.” “If I weren’t insane, how could I have done all those things?” I didn’t want anything anymore. Just let me leave. Give me my freedom.
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