Chapter 4

Grace POV

Ethan's expression froze.

He glanced around; my colleagues, though looking down, clearly had their ears perked up.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, lowering his voice even further:"Last night you weren't home, I looked everywhere for you."

"If you're mad, let's talk at home, don't make a scene like this."

"I moved out," I interrupted him.

His words caught in his throat.

I looked into his eyes, and for the first time, I felt something beyond coldness in them.

It was confusion.

He seemed completely unable to grasp it, as if thinking, *how could I actually move out?*

I didn't give him time to process.

"Go back, don't block people where I work. It doesn't look good."

Ethan didn't leave.

He stared at me for a long time, long enough for my colleague next to me to uncomfortably shift her chair.

Finally, he said something.

"Grace, do you think moving out will solve anything?"

He seemed convinced I wouldn't last long living elsewhere, as if he believed I would soon come back on my own, that I was nothing without him.

Just as he thought that cold coffee would always be waiting for him in the hallway.

I looked at him and suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion.

"It's not about moving out."

His brows furrowed.

I didn't want to explain anymore. I took out his car keys, which he'd left at home last week, from my drawer and pushed them across the table.

"Your keys."

Ethan glanced down at the keys, then at me, his lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing.

He took the keys, turned, and left.

The back of his lab coat disappeared down the hallway.

My phone lit up.

[10:51 Ethan left the administrative building. Walking speed below normal. Lingered in the first-floor lobby again for 2 minutes 08 seconds, then returned to the inpatient department.]

I finished reading the notification and flipped my phone face down on the desk.

So what?

He walked slowly, but he didn't look back.

…

At noon, I went to the cafeteria alone.

Normally, at this time, I'd be eating takeout in the office, because Ethan didn't like me eating in the cafeteria; he thought it looked bad for colleagues to see us eating at different tables. But he himself always ate with department staff, and there was never a place for me.

So his solution was for me to eat in the office.

It sounded absurd, thinking about it now.

I stood in front of the serving window, realizing I hadn't had a proper meal in the cafeteria for almost two years.

Anna, the cafeteria lady, still remembered me:"Grace, you haven't been here in a while! The roasted ribs are great today, I'll give you an extra piece."

I carried my overflowing tray to a window seat.

The sunlight fell perfectly on the back of my hand, warming it, almost unreal.

Halfway through my meal, I heard someone chatting nearby.

"Did you see the notice from Orthopedics? Serena's federal research grant project passed the preliminary review."

"Really? She's only in her second year of postdoc, isn't she? Her capabilities are too strong."

"She's capable, but everyone says Ethan helped her a lot."

"Helped her? He directly shared his data resources with her. Who gets that kind of treatment…"

My fork paused in mid-air.

His data resources.

How much of that data had I stayed up late organizing?

Suddenly, I lost my appetite.

I put down my fork and took my tray to the return counter.

Walking out of the cafeteria, the sun was still shining, but I no longer felt warm.