Chapter 4

Ethan poured a glass of warm water and placed it in my hand.

He knelt down, face-to-face, his forehead against mine, his eyes pleading:

"Chloe, please say something, don't scare me."

"We're home now. Look, it's our new apartment."

Home?

I vaguely came back to my senses. Olivia was already gone.

Ethan's glare had made her leave.

Before she left, Olivia shrugged indifferently, then mouthed two words with a playful smirk: "Beaker."

So disgusting.

So incredibly disgusting.

I trembled all over and pushed him away forcefully. "Get lost."

Ethan's lower back hit the table leg. He grunted and sighed:

"Chloe, you can vent your anger however you want, but at least give me a chance to explain, right?"

"Olivia just heard we were getting married and wanted to offer her congratulations."

Ethan's tone was helpless:

"I was afraid you'd misunderstand, and since you were on a business trip, I didn't tell you."

"I didn't know you'd come back early. This is my fault."

"That's it?" I asked him.

Ethan nodded. "Chloe, when have I ever lied to you?"

My smile was uglier than any cry.

Why?

It was the same familiar face.

The same familiar tone.

Seven years. When did he learn to lie so flawlessly, without even a flicker in his eyes?

Ethan was startled, thinking I was only upset because I'd seen Olivia.

He patiently wiped away my tears.

"We were just kids back in high school. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Besides, she already paid the price for it."

"No diploma, divorced parents. She entered the world early as a young woman, even getting enough to eat was a struggle. She was truly pitiful."

"Yes, she wronged you. But it's been seven years. Why can't you just get over it?"

For seven years, every damp, rainy season, I would have nightmares.

In my dreams, countless smooth hands, like vines, would cling stickily to me.

Olivia's cruel smiling face was always there.

A cold blade would slide down my cheek, leaving a bloody trail.

"Chloe, I was the first one to see your whole body. Doesn't that make me half your man?"

"Sweetie, don't you dare forget me."

I'd wake up screaming, my face already drenched with tears, soaking the pillowcase.

Ethan would quietly comfort me again and again:

"Don't be scared. It's okay if you can't forget. I'll always be with you."

And now.

He's asking me, on behalf of my bully, why I can't just get over it?

My chest felt like it was being churned by a dull knife.

One cut after another, deep and heavy.

I lifted my pale face and asked the last question:

"Why?"

Ethan's tone softened slightly, his gaze lowered:

"Chloe, I don't want to see you have nightmares."

"Let go of the past. We have a better future ahead. Let's get our marriage license tomorrow, okay?"

I was tired of his evasiveness. I asked hoarsely:

"Ethan, tell me, did you sleep with her..."

The urgent ringing of his phone suddenly broke the silence.

He quickly answered. In less than three seconds, his expression became anxious.

"I'm going out for a bit. Don't wait up for me."

At the same time, an unfamiliar text message popped up on my phone.

"Chloe, do you believe me? In five minutes, he'll be in my bed."

The familiar malice confronted me directly.

I instinctively grabbed Ethan's sleeve:

"Don't go..."

He paused, turned around, and slowly pulled his hand away.

"Chloe, I have to go."

The door closed.

I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.

I couldn't stop him.

Seven years ago, Chloe insisted on going to that meeting out of foolishness.

Ethan wasn't stupid.

He was enjoying every minute of it.

The screen lit up again.

"Chloe, you still don't know, do you?"

"He slept with me on the night you got engaged."