Chapter 4

I didn't answer him. Walking straight into the bedroom, I pulled our baby's ultrasound scan from the drawer and sat blankly on the edge of the bed, staring at it.

"Tomorrow is the anniversary of our baby's passing. Come visit the memorial with me."

Ethan fell silent for a long moment before finally giving a stiff nod.

"Fine."

With that, he turned and went into the study without sparing me another glance.

In the past, he would have never agreed to visit our baby's memorial with me.

He always considered it pointless.

The only reason he agreed so easily today was probably because I had found out the truth.

He wanted to make up for his lie, which was why he said yes.

Early the next morning, I threw on a black trench coat and went to the study to call Ethan so we could head to the memorial together.

When I pushed the door open, Ethan wasn't there.

Just as I pulled out my phone to call him, a text from Ethan popped up:

"Go to the cemetery first. I'll be there shortly."

"The apartment next to Chloe's started remodeling this morning and woke her up. She gets terrible morning rage, so I need to stay and keep her company for a bit."

I checked the time. It was 9:00 AM.

Which meant Ethan had headed over to Chloe's place around eight.

Yet for years, he had insisted he could never wake up before nine and therefore couldn't make me breakfast.

None of that mattered anymore.

On my drive to our baby's memorial site, an unknown number called my phone.

I wasn't planning on answering, but seeing it was a local number, I assumed it was a delivery driver and picked up.

The second the call connected, Ethan's voice faintly came through the speaker:

"Okay, okay, Chloe, stop being mad, alright?"

"I'll go upstairs right now and tell them to stop the remodeling."

Immediately after, Chloe's whiny voice followed:

"No! You can't leave! If you leave, I won't feel safe!"

Ethan's tone was so gentle it sounded like honey:

"Fine, I won't leave. I'll make a noise complaint on the phone, and then I'll tuck you back to sleep, deal?"

Only then did Chloe stop whining.

"That's more like it."

Even though I had completely given up on Ethan, hearing him speak with such soft, tender devotion still made me freeze, losing focus for a split second.

In that brief lapse of attention, a massive semi-truck rear-ended my car.

Everything went black, and I lost consciousness.

After a good Samaritan rushed me to the hospital, he used my phone to call Ethan.

"Hello? Are you the victim's family? She's been in a car crash!"

Hearing this, Ethan showed zero panic.

"Natalie, just because I couldn't make it to our baby's memorial, you're hiring someone to lie to me?"

"Even if you really did get into an accident, haven't I told you before? You don't need to bother me with petty things like this."

Before the bystander could even process his words, Ethan hung up.

Fortunately, my injuries weren't severe. Despite the violent collision, I had only walked away with minor scrapes and bruises.

When I regained consciousness, the bystander recounted the phone call and urged me to call Ethan back myself.

I shook my head faintly.

"No need. He's not my husband. We're getting a divorce."

After keeping me under observation for two hours, the doctor cleared me to leave.

Walking out of the hospital, I drove straight to the cemetery to visit my baby, and then headed directly to the airport.

Last night, I had already bought a one-way ticket back to my hometown.

The signed divorce papers were sitting neatly in the nightstand of the master bedroom.

From the moment I learned Ethan had faked his emotional detachment, I had already decided to put an end to this six-year farce of a marriage.

By the time I reached the airport, my flight was boarding.

Without a second thought, I boarded the plane, leaving behind the city that held Ethan.

At that exact moment, Ethan had just lulled Chloe to sleep.

As he pulled out his phone to call me and ask where I was, a breaking news alert popped up on his screen:

"Sedan Rear-Ended by Semi-Truck on the Overpass; Driver Knocked Unconscious on Impact."

Remembering the call he had received earlier, his hands began to tremble as he tapped on the photo.

The license plate of the crumpled sedan matched my birthday perfectly.