Chapter 2

He stood up, as if he had run out of his very last drop of patience.

"I'm leaving. Get some rest."

"No one is watching Sienna upstairs. I'm not comfortable leaving her alone."

"I'm going to go take care of her."

He paused at the door.

Then, he turned back to look at me.

"Don't be too sad."

"We can have other babies."

"Crying all the time isn't good for your recovery."

With that, he left without a single backward glance.

I stared at the empty, sterile hospital room and sank weakly into the bed.

I was alone in this room too.

But the only person he cared about, the only person he couldn't leave alone, was Sienna.

Two weeks later, I was discharged.

During those two weeks, Ethan never came to see me.

Even though Sienna and I were in the exact same hospital, he couldn't spare a single minute for me.

He only ordered his housekeeper to send over some soup twice a day.

I didn't even look at it. I dumped it all down the drain.

Last night, Ethan sent me a text saying he would pick me up today.

I waited until 5 PM, only to receive another message:

"Working late. Go home by yourself."

I put my phone down and put on my coat.

I should have stopped expecting anything from him a long time ago.

When I unlocked the front door of our penthouse, the lights inside were blindingly bright.

He and Sienna were in the living room, wrapped tightly in each other's arms.

Sienna was wearing one of his oversized white shirts, leaving her legs completely bare.

He was holding her up, one arm wrapped around her waist.

Her arms were looped around his neck.

Their bodies were pressed so close there was no space between them.

The sound of the door opening drew their attention.

When Ethan saw me, he instinctively let go of her.

Without his support, Sienna swayed and almost fell.

Panic flashed across Ethan's face, and he immediately grabbed her back into his arms.

Then, he turned to me, offering a hasty explanation.

"Sienna's ankle still hasn't fully healed. I was just helping her practice walking."

I didn't say a word. I just walked past them.

He hesitated for a second before adding, "My late meeting got canceled. I forgot to text you."

"Sorry."

Sienna stood on one leg, letting the hem of the shirt ride up provocatively.

She looked at me with a pitiful, teary expression.

"Chloe, are you okay now?"

"I swear, what happened that day was a total accident."

"And I got hurt too. Thank God Ethan has been taking care of me 24/7."

Ethan helped her sit on the sofa and gently rubbed her back.

"I already told her," he whispered to Sienna.

"Don't worry. No one is blaming you."

Then, he turned his cold gaze back to me.

"You're back just in time."

"Sienna's dress got dirty, so I let her borrow my shirt."

"Her dress is soaking in the sink. Go wash it for her."

I looked up, meeting his perfectly entitled expression.

"Ethan, I literally just got discharged today."

"My body is still recovering. I can't touch freezing water right now."

"Do you not know that?"

Ethan's brows furrowed in annoyance.

"Sienna's ankle is hurt, she can't do it."

"And that dress is delicate silk. The washing machine will ruin it."

"Why are you being so dramatic? It's just one dress."

I sat on the opposite armchair, motionless.

"I won't wash it."

"I am your legal wife, Ethan. Not your hired maid."

Ethan sneered, his voice dropping to a cold whisper.

"A maid?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Chloe."

"The Carter family is bankrupt. You eat my food, spend my money, and live in my house."

"You used to be a big deal in New York high society, but if I throw you out of this house, it won't look pretty."

"Be smart. It's just a dress."

I walked into the bathroom and plunged my hands into the basin.

The ice-cold water rushed over my fingers, and a sharp, biting pain shot through my joints.

I bit my lower lip, rubbing the silk fabric gently.

My tears dripped into the water, making tiny splashing sounds.

After hanging the dress to dry, I went back to my bedroom.

My hands were bright red and completely numb from the cold.

Ethan was right. When you live under someone else's roof, you have to bow your head.

But I refused to live a life worse than a maid's any longer.

I sat at my desk and hesitated for a long time.

Eventually, I pulled up a contact number hidden deep in my notes.

It was the last card my parents had left me before they died.

"Hello? Is this the butler of the London townhouse?"

"I'm planning to move in. How long will it take to get the place ready?"