Chapter 2

I felt almost dizzy, my fingertips zooming in and out.

No matter how many times I looked, stubbornly refusing to believe it.

That half-face, that matching couple's ring on his right middle finger, it was exactly as I remembered.

How could it be him?

Just last week, before his business trip, Ethan had gently hugged me, his voice tender:

"Chloe, the new apartment is almost ready. On moving day, we'll head to city hall to get our marriage license."

Moving day was the day after tomorrow.

The comments on that post kept scrolling, some questioning:

"A bully actually found love? Who'd believe that?"

"She's probably just jealous of someone else's true love and deliberately Photoshopped it to be disgusting."

My heart skipped a beat.

My suffocating chest finally caught a breath.

Olivia hated my guts. Knowing our wedding was close, it was possible she was just spreading rumors.

After all, Ethan had more than once held my scarred hand, his eyes red with tears:

"Every time you have a nightmare, I wish I could kill her."

Olivia replied to that one comment directly:

"How ridiculous. Who's true love isn't set in stone. Here, take a closer look."

She uploaded another series of pictures.

The screen was filled with screenshots of bank transfers and receipts, each specifically noted "voluntary gift."

Monthly short trips, with hundreds of flight tickets alone.

"He's madly in love with me. At least three boxes of condoms every month."

"The most thrilling time was when he pretended to work overtime."

"That bitch called to check up on him. I deliberately screamed a little louder, and he punished me all night. My back was killing me."

"Office desks aren't exactly comfortable, though. I heard his couch was custom-made for her overseas."

"So tonight, the hostess of the new house will be me, I guess?"

In the newly loaded selfie, she smiled, tilting her head, looking innocent.

That door in the background was the entrance to the apartment complex Ethan and I had seen countless times but hadn't moved into yet.

The car reached its stop.

I followed the crowd out of the car. The cold wind poured into my collar, chilling my face pale.

While waiting for a cab, I stared down, dialing Ethan's number again and again.

Until I got into the car, there was no answer.

On the eighth call, Ethan picked up.

The distance to the new apartment was less than two miles.

"Chloe, wha—"

"Where are you?" I interrupted him, trying with all my might to steady my voice.

Ethan's voice was soft and tender:

"I'm at work, overtime. Miss me already?"

"Video call."

He paused, a hint of helplessness in his voice:

"Baby, I have a meeting. Can I call you back later?"

"I've got a lot of projects this month. I want to earn more so you won't have to work so hard after we get married."

One mile.

I was silent for a moment, then asked in a hoarse voice:

"Ethan, have you ever lied to me?"

He answered without hesitation: "Of course not, Chloe. Why the sudden question?"

A faint scoff, almost imperceptible, reached my ears.

It was Olivia.

My heart slowly grew cold.

Three hundred feet left.

"Is someone next to you? Who is it?"

Ethan coughed, trying to cover it up: "Just a colleague, Chloe. How about we talk later, when you're back from your business trip—?"

He suddenly stopped. "Chloe, are you… crying?"

The car slowly pulled over.

With just one glance, I saw them in the distance.

Under the dim streetlights, Olivia, in a short skirt, was leaning softly against Ethan, half her body draped on him.

She was listening to the phone, her face mocking.

Everything she said was true.

Ethan.

You could cheat with anyone, but how could it be her?

Tears splattered on the ground, but I stubbornly looked up, my voice hoarse:

"Turn around."