Chapter 2

What right did I have to complain anyway?

Ever since Chloe showed up, I had stopped mattering to Ethan.

The man who had once promised to love me forever, the man who swore he would never let me suffer, had given all his warmth and affection to Chloe.

Whether it was my birthday or our anniversary, Chloe could drag Ethan away with a single Snapchat.

I had fought with him. I had cried. But every single time, Ethan’s apologies were so incredibly sincere.

He kept telling me that I was the one he loved, and that Chloe was just a responsibility.

Time and time again, I backed down because of his sweet words.

But today, seeing him let Chloe move into our home, watching her redecorate it, and seeing the tender smile on his face when he looked at her... I could no longer lie to myself.

I forced a smile and fled the scene.

A few days later, I went back to the townhouse to pack up the rest of my things.

As I walked through the lobby, the new concierge stopped me.

"Excuse me, ma'am. All visitors need to sign in at the front desk."

This was my townhouse. I was coming to "my own home," yet I was treated like a guest who needed to register.

I took the pen and signed my name, too tired to even feel angry. But a dull ache throbbed in my chest.

We had been engaged for three years. As Ethan’s official fiancée, every time I visited him at his university, I was treated like a complete stranger.

I had to sign the visitor log every single time.

How blind had I been to believe his apologies over and over again?

With a completely numb heart, I went back to my office.

The email declining my company's transfer to our London office was sitting in my drafts, unsent.

I looked at the screen, staring at the paragraphs of excuses I had written just to stay close to Ethan. I laughed at myself. Without a second thought, I hit delete, typed a simple "I accept," and clicked send.

Once the email was gone, I pulled up my contacts and dialed the number I had rejected so many times before.

The call went through almost instantly.

I was quiet for a few seconds before speaking softly.

"You said you wanted to take me away. Does that offer still stand?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by a deep, steady voice.

"Always."

Although the decision to leave was made quickly, the paperwork was a headache.

My company handled my visa and work transfer, but the joint accounts and assets I shared with Ethan required my personal attention.

I went to the bank first, intending to withdraw my portion of the money from our joint savings account and close it.

But the bank teller’s response completely blindsided me.

"Ms. Hazel, there is no balance left in this joint account."

I couldn't believe my ears.

"What?"

Ethan and I had opened this account when we got engaged. We agreed to deposit a set amount of money every month to build our future nest egg.

Over three years, it should have accumulated at least eighty thousand dollars.

How could there be nothing left?

I asked the teller to check where the funds had gone.

The teller was very polite. After looking through the records, she gave me a look of deep sympathy.

"Ms. Hazel, the funds in this account were transferred last month into another joint account under Mr. Vance's name and another individual."

The teller couldn't legally disclose the other person's name.

But I didn't need her to.

I left the bank and immediately called a friend who worked in finance to look into it.

Within minutes, the details were sent to my phone.

It turned out that two years ago, Ethan had opened a joint account with Chloe behind my back.

And all the money from our nest egg had been slowly moved into that account.

I didn't even know what to feel. In that moment, it felt like the entire world had gone dead silent.

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