Chapter 2

I went home clutching the photo.

The entire drive back, every single word Serena had ever said to me kept flashing through my mind.

She once told me that when she had bad cramps, her husband would get up in the middle of the night to brew her hot ginger tea.

On that exact night, I was curling up in pain in my own bed, calling Ethan. He told me he was at a business dinner and couldn't make it home.

She said when she had a high fever, her husband stayed up all night watching over her until his eyes were bloodshot.

On that exact day, my stomach pain was so bad I couldn't even stand. I texted Ethan, and he only replied:

*Make sure to take some pills.*

She said when she was in a bad mood, her husband canceled his meetings to take her to the beach.

That day was my birthday.

Ethan had promised to take me out for dinner, but at the last minute, he texted saying something came up at the office and told me to eat the cake by myself.

Then Serena called me, her voice dripping with sweet vanity.

"Chloe, my husband just took me out for dinner. Now he’s insisting on taking me to the beach for the night breeze. It’s so annoying."

Back then, I actually laughed and said:

"Well, that’s a happy problem."

Looking back, every single word felt like a brutal slap to my face.

Ethan wasn't too busy. He just gave all his time to her.

I was sitting on the couch, my hand trembling as I held the photo, when my phone suddenly rang.

The caller ID showed: *Ethan*.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds before swiping to answer.

"Chloe?"

His voice was as gentle as always, filled with that comforting tone he always used.

"Why didn't you call me when you woke up? I just got out of a meeting and saw the notification from the hospital."

I said nothing.

He paused, his tone softening even more.

"I'm so sorry, babe. My phone was on silent during the presentation, so I missed your calls. I contacted your parents too. They said they were on their way to visit an old friend and didn't check their phones."

"How are you feeling? What did the doctor say?"

"Does your stomach still hurt?"

"I had the housekeeper make some soup for you. I’ll be home to keep you company later, okay?"

He asked so many detailed questions, sounding like the most caring husband in the world.

If I didn't have this photo in my hand, I would have believed him.

I asked quietly, "Ethan, were you really that busy today?"

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Then, he let out a soft laugh.

"Of course I was. Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

"Are you just feeling down because of the miscarriage? Don't overthink things, Chloe."

"Be a good girl and don't overanalyze. I'll be home soon."

I closed my eyes. "Okay."

He sounded relieved. "Good girl. Wait for me."

After the call ended, the living room fell into a suffocating silence.

I slowly put my phone down as more details flooded my brain.

I remembered finding a faint trace of baby powder scent on Ethan's shirt.

I remembered seeing a tiny toy car in the backseat of his car.

I remembered how he would occasionally step out to the balcony to answer calls, keeping his voice incredibly low.

Whenever I asked, he would always say it was just a client.

And I believed him.

Because I never had a reason to doubt him.

And I certainly never expected Serena to be the one to stab me in the back.