Chapter 5

After a long day of work, I returned home to find Ethan gone.

The living room was empty, the blinds were drawn, and the space was dim.

I turned on the lights, put on my slippers, and walked into the master bedroom.

The sheets had been replaced with fresh ones. The ruined set from yesterday was gone.

On the nightstand sat a glass of warm water with a sticky note pressed underneath.

"Left you some warm water. I have a business dinner tonight, don't wait up."

I stared at the note for a second, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it into the trash can.

At 9:00 PM, my phone rang.

It was Ethan.

"Chloe, I might be home late tonight. The client wants to—"

"Got it."

I hung up.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed again.

It wasn't a call from Ethan, but a message from a mutual friend.

"Chloe, did you and Ethan get into a fight? I just saw him having dinner with Brooke at a restaurant. They seemed really close."

I tapped on the attached photo and zoomed in.

Ethan was sitting in a cozy booth, and Brooke was sitting directly opposite him under the dim, romantic lighting.

I smiled.

So this was his "business dinner." A candlelit dinner with Brooke.

I put my phone down and went back to editing my business proposal.

At 1:00 AM, the front door unlocked.

I heard Ethan's heavy footsteps stumbling down the hallway before stopping outside my study.

He knocked gently.

"Chloe, are you still awake?"

"Yes."

"I brought some takeout. Do you want some?"

"No."

Silence stretched outside the door for a few seconds.

"Are you mad again?"

I released my mouse, walked to the door, and pulled it open.

He was leaning against the doorframe, smelling of alcohol, his face slightly flushed.

"Ethan, who did you have dinner with tonight?"

His expression froze for a fraction of a second. "A client."

"Which client?"

"You don't know them."

"Was it Brooke?"

His pupils contracted, but he quickly recovered his composure. "How did you know?"

"Someone saw you."

He remained silent for a few seconds, then let out a heavy sigh. "Fine, I had dinner with Brooke. But she insisted on buying me a meal to apologize to you. She was too scared to face you directly, so she wanted to talk to me first."

"So she invited you, and you went. She asked you to take her home, and you did. She asked to sleep in your bed, and you let her?"

"I told you that was an accident!"

"Enough."

I raised my hand, cutting him off.

"Ethan, save your explanations. Who you eat with, drink with, or sleep with has absolutely nothing to do with me anymore."

His face drained of color.

"What do you mean it has nothing to do with you? You're my wife!"

"Not for much longer."

The hallway fell dead silent.

Ethan stood before me, his expression morphing from confusion to shock, and finally to anger.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like."

"You want a divorce?"