Chapter 2

In the afternoon, I went to the building management office.

I had my fingerprint deleted from the access system for this apartment.

The building manager, a kindly elderly woman, looked confused as I did it.

"Mrs. Hayes, why on earth would you delete your fingerprint? It'll be so inconvenient getting in and out."

"I won't need to anymore," I smiled.

Back home, I dragged two large cardboard boxes from the storage room and started packing.

This house was huge, a spacious river-view penthouse, two thousand square feet, that Ethan had paid for in full.

He said it was to thank me for enduring the toughest times with him.

I thought this was our home.

Now I realized, my belongings were pitifully few.

In the walk-in closet, only two racks of clothes belonged to me.

The rest were all his uniforms for different seasons, suits, trench coats, and sports gear.

I folded my everyday clothes and put them in a suitcase.

The expensive evening gowns he bought me, but which weren't my style, remained untouched on their hangers.

On the bedside table sat an airline model plane.

It was a souvenir from his first international flight.

I picked it up, and underneath, there was a photo.

It was a picture of us from four years ago.

He had just been promoted to captain then, full of youthful vigor.

I gently pulled the photo out and tossed it into the nearby trash can.

The model went back to its spot.

In the evening, my phone vibrated.

A SnapChat message from Ethan.

"Landed, just got to the hotel."

Normally, I'd reply immediately, asking if he was tired, if the hotel bed was comfortable.

Today, I just sent one word.

"Okay."

Half an hour later, he sent another.

"It's really cold here in Germany. Do you want me to buy you any duty-free stuff?"

I was packing my bottles and jars from the bathroom counter into my makeup bag.

"No, thanks."

"Didn't you always bug me about getting that specific serum?"

I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

"No, thanks. I don't want it anymore."

No reply came from his end.

Maybe he thought I was being unreasonable, or maybe he was busy looking after someone else.

I opened Chloe's Ins profile.

The first post was from ten minutes ago.

A night view of the Rhine River.

Next to it, a glass of mulled wine, with a man's hand resting on the rim.

The middle finger of that hand had a faint scar.

Ethan got it cutting fruit; I'd even changed his dressing for a week back then.

Chloe's caption read:

"The wind in Frankfurt is cold, but the mulled wine is warm. A flight taken care of by someone is always the best journey."

A few of their company colleagues had liked it.

Someone commented, "Ethan must've treated, right? Chloe, you're so lucky."

Chloe replied with a shy emoji.

I calmly closed Ins.

The sharp pang in my chest had finally gone numb.

For eight years, like a fool, I'd been blind, feeding myself on his empty promises.

He wasn't careless, he wasn't unromantic.

He just saved all his care and romance for someone else.

A few days later, Ethan's flight landed.

At seven in the evening, he pushed open the front door.

In his hand, a beautifully wrapped gift box.

I sat on the sofa, watching him change his shoes.

"Why didn't you make dinner?" He glanced at the empty dining table.

"I already ate."

His frown deepened.

"I flew for over ten hours, and I can't even get a hot meal when I get home?"

"You can order takeout."

He slammed the gift box onto the coffee table.

"Olivia, what's with this attitude of yours these past two days?"

"I don't have an attitude."

"No attitude? You haven't sent a single message? I asked you if you wanted anything and you wouldn't say."

I looked at the gift box.

"Is that for me?"

He froze for a moment, his eyes darting away.

"This is... someone asked me to bring it back for them. I'll get yours tomorrow at the mall."

Someone.

"Chloe asked you to get it?" I looked him in the eye.

His face darkened.

"You went through my phone?"

"Her Ins profile is public for everyone to see."

He breathed a sigh of relief, his tone immediately becoming self-righteous again.

"She helped me with something, what's the big deal about getting her a gift? Do you have to be so petty?"

"I didn't say anything."

"This cold, distant look says it all!" He impatiently tore off his tie. "She's a colleague, we see each other all the time at work, what's wrong with me looking out for her?"

"You look out for her very well." I stood up, unwilling to argue anymore.

"Olivia!"

He called out from behind me.

"I've had a long day. Can you just be reasonable? Don't make me come home and have to deal with your moods."

Reasonable.

I'd been reasonable for eight years.

So I swallowed my tears and walked into the guest room without looking back.

"I'll sleep in here tonight. Get some good rest."