The day before our sixth wedding anniversary, I saw a notification pop up on Ethan’s phone. It was a delivery confirmation for a luxury diamond necklace. I pretended I didn’t see it. That night, I dressed up and met Ethan for our anniversary dinner. But when the time came for gifts, he pulled out a small velvet box containing a pair of cheap, tiny cubic zirconia stud earrings. I stared at the earrings in shock. Before I could even ask, he checked his watch, stood up, and said he had to catch a flight for an urgent business trip. Later, sitting alone in our empty house, I opened Instagram. The first post on my feed was from my younger sister, Lily. “The one who truly loves you always knows exactly what you want! ❤️” “Celebrating our first international trip together! ✈️” In the photo, she was wearing the exact luxury diamond necklace from the notification. And the man she was passionately kissing was my “traveling” husband. I calmly turned off my phone. Thinking back on everything I had sacrificed for him over the past six years, I suddenly felt incredibly pathetic.
It was late at night a week later when Ethan finally came home, dragging his suitcase behind him. I was curled up on the couch, just finishing a movie. I glanced at him, sat up, slipped on my slippers, and headed toward the bedroom. As I brushed past him, he grabbed my arm. He stared at me with a complicated expression. “Chloe, are you just going to bed like that?” I looked back at him, confused. “What else should I do?” “It’s late. Why wouldn’t I go to sleep?” Did you expect me to stay up and ask about your romantic getaway, like you did with my sister? He looked taken spirit back. He probably expected me to behave like I used to—hurrying to take his luggage, cooking him a warm late-night meal, and asking him if his business trip was exhausting. Looking back at my past self, I realized how desperately foolish I had been. I gave him a flat look, pulled my arm away, and walked straight into the bedroom. A few minutes later, a warm, damp body slid into the bed behind me. His hand found its way to my waist. I scooted closer to the edge of the bed. “Don’t. I’m really tired today.” He got the hint and pulled his hand back. Then, he muttered impatiently, “You stay at home all day. How tired could you possibly be?” Oh, right. I’m sure I’m not as exhausted as you. After all, you have to manage a multi-million dollar company and find time to take my sister on secret overseas vacations behind my back. Sensing my coldness, Ethan rolled over with a frustrated sigh. I stared at his back in the dim light. He felt so close, yet his heart was miles away. I realized I had never truly held a place in his heart. I used to think that if I ever caught Ethan cheating, I would scream, cry, and fall apart. But seeing that photo of them kissing had only left me with a strange, hollow calmness. When I first saw that delivery text, I had foolishly fantasized that Ethan was finally fulfilling his promise. I remembered the day we got married. His startup was bleeding cash back then, desperately needing every penny. We couldn’t afford a real wedding. We just had a quick courthouse ceremony, wearing simple white shirts and cheap corsages, and hosted a small dinner for our parents. After everyone left, he held my hands in our cramped, rented apartment and promised me solemnly. “Chloe, one day, I will buy you the finest things this world has to offer.” When I saw the text about the necklace, I had excitedly waited for him to clasp it around my neck. I had even booked a table at the city’s finest restaurant just to celebrate. But he had rushed into the private dining room, devoured his steak without once looking up at me, and thrown a cheap red velvet box into my lap. “Happy anniversary,” he had said dismissively. Then he stood up. “There’s an issue with the European branch. I have to fly out tonight.” And just like that, he walked out. When I searched the house later, I didn’t find the necklace. Instead, I found the receipt in his study drawer. I touched the cheap earrings in my ears and laughed at myself. “So, these were just the free gift that came with the necklace.” I looked up at our wedding photo hanging in the living room, feeling a sudden sting in my eyes. The dull ache in my chest kept me wide awake. I opened Instagram to distract myself, only to see a new update from my sister, who had just landed. The location was marked at the airport’s VIP lounge. “The one who truly loves you always knows exactly what you want! ❤️” “Celebrating our first international trip together! ✈️” In the photo, she was wearing the diamond necklace. The man she was kissing in the background was my husband. My chest tightened as if a giant hand were squeezing my heart. I gasped for air, hating myself for still feeling the pain. I should have seen this coming. I should have known the moment Lily came back to the country. Lily was a world-renowned violinist. On the day she returned, the airport was swarming with reporters. Ethan had been caught in the background of a news broadcast, sitting in his car. It immediately became a trending topic on Twitter. Even though the image was blurry, I recognized his sharp profile and high nose bridge instantly. There were only five white-interior Rolls-Royce Phantoms in the entire city, and one belonged to my husband. I couldn’t have mistaken it. My husband had chosen the rightful owner of that necklace long ago.
My phone vibrated against the nightstand. It was a message from Valerie, my former college mentor who was now running a jewelry studio in Paris. [Chloe, all three of the jewelry designs you sent me won international design awards! Are you seriously still not considering moving abroad?] [I really want you in Paris as my partner. If you keep hiding behind your husband, your talent is going to be completely wasted!] I looked at the sleeping back of the man next to me and typed a firm reply. [Valerie, once I wrap things up here, I’m booking a flight to Paris.] [Don’t worry. I’ve made up my mind.] If this were the old me, I would have said no. … Ethan was raised solely by his single mother. Six months after we married, his mother was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. I quit my job as an assistant jewelry designer to take care of her full-time. After she passed away, Ethan’s company finally took off. He insisted that I didn’t need to work anymore and should focus on being a full-time housewife. During my free time, I would sketch jewelry designs and send them to Valerie to earn some extra money. My designs kept getting rave reviews from her high-end clients. Valerie had been begging me to join her as a business partner. And seeing my name on the international award list made my heart leap. Just like Lily loved her violin, designing jewelry was my life’s passion. Becoming a famous jewelry designer had been my dream since childhood. But back then, I couldn’t bear to leave Ethan and our young son. Ethan had no other family left, and I didn’t want to abandon him. I could never forget the Christmas Eve when Ethan was only eight years old. He was kneeling alone at his father’s funeral service. It was freezing. His small, stiff body stood straight, fighting back tears as he bowed politely to the guests like a mini-adult. While other houses were filled with laughter and holiday music, his home was filled only with his mother’s weeping. I was building a snowman down the street when I saw him watching me through the window. His little face was so solemn, so heavy with grief. I remembered my parents talking about his family that morning, and my heart had ached for him. “Poor kid. His dad died in a car crash. How is his mother going to raise him alone?” my mother had sighed. I had walked over and knocked on his window. “Ethan! Can you help me build this snowman? I’m really bad at it.” I handed him my little plastic shovel. He stared at the half-formed pile of snow, then slowly took the shovel from my hands. When I wrapped my red woolen scarf around the snowman’s neck, his tense, sad face finally broke into a smile. Later, I brought over a warm pot roast my mom had made, calling it a “thank-you gift” for helping me. He looked at his crying mother in the other room, patted his empty stomach, and accepted it. I stayed by his side through all his darkest years. We only separated when he became the high school valedictorian and went to an Ivy League university in another state, while I attended a college closer to home. But Lily, with her violin talent, was admitted to the same university as Ethan on a music scholarship. Every holiday, Ethan would be the one driving Lily home. The bright, sunny smile on his face was something I hadn’t seen in years. Even though we were the same age, he started calling me “older sister” just because Lily did. His phone background was a candid photo of Lily. I knew he loved her desperately, just as desperately as I loved him. But then, Lily decided to move to Europe to pursue her career, and the smile vanished from Ethan’s face. One winter night, I saw him standing under the streetlamp outside our house. Snow had piled up on his shoulders. I tried to walk past him quietly, but he called out my name. “Chloe, Merry Christmas.” “Yeah, you too.” I stood there, unsure of what to say. He pulled a small jewelry box from his coat pocket. “For you.” “Thank you.” As silence fell between us again, I turned to walk inside. But he suddenly asked, his voice dead serious, “Chloe, will you be my girlfriend?” I froze, my heart pounding wildly against my ribs. My face flushed hot. I panicked, ran inside, and threw myself onto my bed. When I opened the jewelry box, my heart sank. It was a beautiful platinum necklace. But under the light, the engraved initials “L” were painfully obvious. L for Lily. A bucket of cold water couldn’t have chilled me more. I clutched the necklace, ran back downstairs, and threw my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply. “Yes, Ethan! I’ll be your girlfriend!” “But from now on, you can only have me in your heart. Promise me?” He stared at me. “I promise.” I forced back my tears and buried my face in his chest. I knew he didn’t love me. He was just using me as a bandage to forget Lily. He knew I had a crush on him, and he knew I could never say no to him. He did it on purpose. And I willingly let myself be used. Five years later, we got married. On our wedding night, he drank too much. He pinned me to the bed, his eyes red as he hugged me tightly. “I missed you so much…” I whispered sweet nothings to soothe him while undressing him. But then his phone lit up on the nightstand with a text: [Ethan, I miss you. — Lily] I turned off the phone and pretended nothing happened. I became the perfect, supportive housewife, the graceful Mrs. Sterling. A year later, on Ethan’s birthday. He was incredibly passionate that night, almost out of control in bed. He held me tight, refusing to let go for hours. Pantingly, I asked him, “What’s gotten into you tonight?” He didn’t answer. He just kissed my forehead gently, but his movements grew even more intense. I was so exhausted that I slept until noon the next day. When I woke up and opened Instagram, I saw Lily’s name trending. She had just announced she had a new boyfriend. Once again, I chose to play the fool, quietly taking care of Ethan’s life. But in the end, I was still the one being discarded. I stared out the window into the pitch-black night, feeling my heart shatter into a million pieces. Across the ocean, Valerie sent another message: [Wow, how did you suddenly decide to leave your husband? Did you guys have a fight?] After a long silence, she wrote: [But honestly, congratulations on finally waking up! A woman should live for herself! Chloe, Paris is waiting for you!]
The next morning, I was sketching on the balcony when Ethan walked out of the bedroom. He looked at the empty dining table and frowned. “No breakfast?” “I already ate.” “What about mine?” I looked up at him. “Is that my problem?” “You…” He took a deep breath, walking over to me. “Why aren’t you wearing the earrings I got you?” “They’re not my style.” Sensing my cold tone, he tried to soften his voice. “Do you want me to put them on for you?” “No need. They don’t suit me.” Losing his patience, he snapped, “Chloe, don’t you think you’re overreacting?” “I told you a hundred times, that was just a game!” “There were so many business clients at that party. I couldn’t just embarrass Lily!” “Intertwining our arms for a drink was just to keep the mood light.” “She’s a young girl trying to build her music career here. Without my support, she’s going to have a hard time!” Ah, he was talking about that. The day after Lily returned to the country, Ethan had vanished. He didn’t pick up my calls. Worried, I called his personal assistant and finally tracked him down to a high-end private lounge. The moment I pushed the door open, I saw him and Lily standing in the center of a cheering crowd, their arms locked together as they took an intimate “lover’s toast” drink. I had walked up and slapped him across the face. Ethan, looking at my tear-streaked face, had only muttered, “I had too much to drink.” Lily had looked at me with puppy-dog eyes, hiding behind Ethan. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. It’s my fault. Please don’t be mad at Ethan.” I wanted to laugh. You were the one drinking intimately with my husband! What right did you have to look victimized? The people around them tried to defend him. “Mrs. Sterling, don’t misunderstand! It was just a party game because they lost. Don’t take it seriously!” When I remained silent, Ethan snapped irritably, “There’s nothing to explain!” I had cried all the way home. When Ethan finally came back, he saw my swollen eyes and sighed. He pulled me into his arms. “Lily and I are strictly platonic. She’s just a friend.” But when I remained cold, he lost his temper and smashed a glass on the floor. “Chloe, drop it!” “Lily is better than you in every single way. If I wanted to be with her, you wouldn’t even be sitting in the seat of Mrs. Sterling right now!” “Stop making a mountain out of a molehill!” That fight had triggered a cold war between us. Until I saw that necklace receipt, which I had foolishly hoped was for me. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I looked at Ethan now and said calmly, “I’m not mad. You’re overthinking.” Then, I picked up my stylus and went back to my design. He froze, standing behind me for a long time. “Are you really not mad?” he asked suspiciously. “Why would I be?” “Unless… you have something else you’re hiding from me?” I asked, turning to look at him. A flash of guilt crossed Ethan’s face. He stiffened. “I have nothing to feel guilty about! Stop being paranoid!” He glared at me. “I won’t be coming home tonight.” “Okay,” I replied. “That’s it?” “Otherwise? Is there anything else?” I looked at him, completely unbothered. His face turned incredibly dark. “Fine, Chloe. You’re unbelievable!” He slammed the front door shut as he left. I stared at the closed door, bewildered. I wasn’t even mad at him anymore. Why was he the one throwing a tantrum?
Ethan didn’t stay out all night like he threatened. Instead, he came back the next afternoon, bringing our son, Leo, back from his summer camp. And walking right beside them was a slender, elegant figure. Lily gave me a dazzling smile. “Chloe! Long time no see!” She was holding my son in her arms, while Ethan carried her bags behind them. They looked far more like a happy family of three than I ever did standing in that living room. Lily walked in and made herself comfortable on my favorite spot on the couch, glancing at the jewelry design website on my laptop. “Chloe, you haven’t changed at all after all these years. Still playing with your little drawings.” “I really admire your patience.” Leo, who hadn’t even changed out of his camp clothes, eagerly snuggled into Lily’s arms. He looked up at her with adoring eyes. “Aunt Lily, there’s nothing to admire about Mommy!” “Mommy just stays at home doing nothing all day. She’s as lazy as a couch potato!” Five-year-old Leo also played the violin, and after hearing Lily perform once, he had become her biggest fan.
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