Chapter 3

Chloe POV

Ivy was back.

I didn't hear this news from Ethan; I saw it on Twitter.

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The photos were blurry, but I recognized that tall back instantly. Ethan had draped a large suit jacket over the petite woman, his head bowed as he shielded her into the car. The gesture showed a tenderness and carefulness I had never seen before.

Today was our third wedding anniversary.

I sat in the empty restaurant, looking at the cold steak on the table and the nearly burned-out candle, and suddenly found it all a bit laughable.

I picked up my phone and dialed Ethan's number.

It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. The background was quiet, with only the occasional beep of medical equipment.

"Something wrong?" Ethan's voice was low.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Working late at the office. An urgent project to handle." He lied, his voice steady.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Ethan, today is our wedding anniversary."

Silence on the other end for two seconds. "Sorry, I forgot. I'll make it up to you tomorrow. Buy whatever you want, just use my card."

"No need," I said softly. "You must be busy."

Hanging up, I called the waiter for the check. I didn't go home. Instead, I drove to an upscale downtown apartment complex. It was one of the properties Ethan owned.

I parked the car by the roadside, quietly watching the apartment building.

Half an hour later, Ethan's car pulled up. He got out, walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and carefully helped a pale woman out.

Ivy.

She looked very weak, leaning into Ethan's embrace. Ethan's head was bowed, whispering something to her, his eyes full of tenderness. He even bent down to straighten the hem of her skirt, which had been ruffled by the wind.

I sat in my car, a street away, watching the scene unfold.

I didn't cry, nor did I rush over to cause a scene. I just watched quietly, as if observing a movie unrelated to me.

So, he wasn't incapable of love; he just didn't love me.

He could drop a billion-dollar project to pick up Ivy from the airport, stay with her at the hospital until midnight, and bend his proud waist for her.

And all I got was a dismissive, "Just use my card."

I started the car, turning around to leave. In the rearview mirror, the embracing figures grew smaller and smaller, until they completely disappeared into the night.

Back at the mansion, I started packing.

I didn't take anything Ethan had bought me. All those designer bags, haute couture dresses, and expensive jewelry, I left them all in the walk-in closet. I only packed a few old clothes I'd brought before the marriage and the laptop that had been with me for years.

My suitcase was empty, just like my three years of marriage. Aside from countless scars, nothing remained.

The next morning, Mr. Davidson delivered the drafted divorce papers.

I didn't even glance at them, signing my name on the last page without hesitation.

"Miss Hayes, are you truly not going to reconsider?" Mr. Davidson looked at my calm face, unable to help but ask.

"No need," I said, putting the papers into a folder. "Please deliver this to Ethan for me. Tell him I don't want anything, just his signature."