Chapter 5

By the time I got back to our apartment, the sky was pitch black.

Ethan returned thirty minutes later.

He walked in with his suit jacket draped over his arm, his face etched with exhaustion.

He looked like a man who had just finished consoling his mistress and child, only to drag himself back to deal with his wife.

He stood by the door, staring at me for a few seconds before saying, "Chloe, we need to talk."

He walked over and sat across from me.

After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Leo is indeed my son."

Even though I already knew, hearing it from his mouth felt like another heavy blow.

My fingertips were icy. "Since when?"

Ethan closed his eyes.

"After your first miscarriage."

My breathing caught.

"You couldn't sleep back then, and your mental state was terrible. The doctor said you needed complete rest. Meanwhile, my company was going through a crisis, and I was running myself ragged. Serena was helping out by taking care of your parents, and she’d occasionally bring food to our place."

"One night, I got completely wasted. She drove me back. And then..."

He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse.

"I wanted to fix things before telling you, but then... she got pregnant."

I looked at him and let out a hollow laugh.

"So you decided to play the loving husband to me while playing dad to her child?"

Ethan frowned, looking pained.

"I never wanted things to turn out like this."

"I never had any intention of divorcing you, Chloe."

How pathetic.

He claimed to love me while having a child with another woman.

He claimed he didn't want a divorce while turning my entire life into a running joke.

I asked quietly, "And what about Serena?"

He paused.

"She is my responsibility."

"Responsibility?" I looked at him. "You went to her appointments, raised her kid, and you were with her the exact day I lost my baby. You call that responsibility?"

A flash of guilt crossed Ethan's eyes.

"Leo had a sudden high fever that day. I couldn't leave."

"You couldn't leave," I repeated, my throat burning. "So you ignored all my calls."

"So my baby died alone because you couldn't leave. Is that it?"

Ethan’s face turned white.

"Chloe, I know I messed up. I'm sorry."

"But ever since you lost the baby, you’ve been so unstable. You don't sleep, you overthink everything, and you're always on edge."

"I was exhausted too."

By the end of his sentence, his voice carried a hint of pent-up resentment.

As if he was the victim here.

"I was suffocating between the office and trying to manage both of you. I wanted to take care of you, but I also had to handle things on her end. You didn't give me any room to breathe."

I looked at him, feeling my love for him completely die.

To him, my grief after losing our baby wasn't pain.

It was just an annoyance.

I stood up, my voice dead calm.

"Ethan, let's get a divorce."

He snapped his head up. "I told you, I am not divorcing you."

"Why?" I looked at him. "Because you love me? Or because you can't bear to lose this perfect setup where you get to keep both of us?"

He froze, unable to utter a single word.

Just then, his phone buzzed.

It was my mother.

He picked it up, and my mom’s frantic voice echoed through the speaker. "Ethan, get over here quick! Leo won't stop crying, and Serena is having a panic attack..."

Ethan didn't even look at me. He grabbed his car keys and bolted out the door.

The moment the door slammed shut, the living room fell silent again.

I stood there for a long time.

When your heart truly breaks, you don't scream or cry.

You just become very, very quiet.

I walked into the bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled out my suitcase.

I packed my clothes, my documents, and my credit cards.

Dragging my suitcase to the front door, I took one last look at the place I had lived in for eight years.

Everything looked exactly the same.

But I knew I couldn't stay here for another second.

I closed the door behind me and stepped into the elevator.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ethan.

*Leo is in bad shape. I might not make it back tonight.*

*Chloe, don't overthink. We’ll talk when I get back.*

I stared at the message for a long time, then locked my screen.

The night wind was freezing.

I dragged my suitcase into the dark, never looking back.