Chapter 6

Chloe POV

For the next few days, Ethan didn't come home.

Occasionally, I saw headlines of him and Amber attending high-society parties together.

I also heard he was making meticulous preparations for Amber's upcoming runway debut.

But I didn't care about those mocking news articles anymore.

Whenever I had free time, I researched my upcoming courses at the Paris school. I couldn't show up completely unprepared.

Grandpa Arthur's lawyer sent me my flight details on Sunday evening.

But unfortunately, because of the freezing wind on the rooftop, I came down with a high fever on Saturday night.

I had always been sensitive to the cold. Now, my body fluctuated between burning hot and freezing cold. My head throbbed painfully.

I was worried I wouldn't be able to board the flight on Monday.

I lay weakly in bed, lacking even the strength to open my eyes.

The bedroom door pushed open, and Ethan walked in, wheeling a suitcase.

He walked over to the closet and began packed his clothes methodically.

He didn't even notice my pale, sweaty face.

Only then did I remember that Monday was also the day Ethan and Amber were leaving for Milan.

The grand fashion show he spent millions on.

I closed my eyes. My heart no longer felt pain. Only a dead, numb silence.

"Ethan," I squeezed out the last bit of my strength to look at the man in his pristine suit. "I have a fever. Can you get me a glass of water?"

Ethan paused his packing.

He turned around, walked to the bedside, and touched my forehead.

"Why don't you take better care of yourself?"

A weak, humorless smile touched my lips.

Yes. If a woman doesn't even love herself, how can she expect anyone else to love her?

I used to be so stupid. But I never would be again.

Ethan frowned. He was about to get me some water when his phone rang.

Seeing the caller ID, Ethan answered immediately.

Within seconds, his voice grew anxious. "How could she just disappear? Wait for me, I'm coming right now."

"Don't worry about the flight on Monday. Everything will be fine."

Hanging up, Ethan zipped his suitcase closed.

He quickly poured a glass of water, tossed some flu medicine on the nightstand, and looked at me with a mix of guilt and impatience.

"Remember to take the medicine. I have an emergency. I'll fly straight to Milan on Monday. Let's celebrate our anniversary when I get back."

I was a bit dazed. Right. Our wedding anniversary was in a few days.

He actually remembered. But I had completely forgotten.

I didn't ask him to stay.

I watched him turn around and leave the penthouse without hesitation.

As the front door locked, the entire place fell into a grave-like silence.

I lay there quietly, feeling the fever drain the moisture from my body.

After a long time, I slowly raised my hand, looking at my wedding ring.

When Ethan slid this ring onto my finger years ago, he swore that if he ever betrayed me, he would lose everything.

I slowly slid the platinum band off my ring finger.

Then I rolled over, closed my eyes, and drifted into a heavy sleep.

The next day, my fever went down a bit. I got up to clean the place.

Because tomorrow was not only the day Ethan and Amber flew to Milan...

It was also the day I would leave him forever and fly to Paris.

I didn't waste a single second. I dragged out several heavy black trash bags.

Everything Ethan had given me over the years, I threw away.

I didn't even touch the millions of dollars worth of jewelry in the safe. I simply texted Ethan's assistant to have them cleared out tomorrow.

I only packed the things I had brought with me.

In the study, I found the sketches of the custom tie clips I had designed for Ethan over the years. I fed them into the shredder without hesitation.

Finally, I stood in front of our massive wedding portrait in the living room.

I calmly smashed the glass frame, pulled the photo out, and set it on fire.

Suddenly, the front door lock beeped.

Ethan walked in.

He was in a rush, probably having forgotten something.

His footsteps stopped dead in the middle of the living room.

He looked at the two packed suitcases on the floor, then at the ashes of our wedding portrait still smoldering in the trash can.

His brow furrowed tightly, irritation flashing in his eyes.

"Chloe, you use this trick way too often. It's getting old."

His tone was still calm, but carried a condescending smirk.

In his mind, my packing was just another desperate attempt to get his attention.

Two years ago, when I threw my ring and packed my bags, he had begged on his knees.

Now that I was doing it again, he just found it annoying.

I zipped up my last suitcase, not even looking up at him. "My things are packed. I didn't take a single thing of yours."

Ethan adjusted his cuffs and walked over to me.

"Are you really going to keep throwing this tantrum just because of the Milan show?"

He sighed. "This show is incredibly important to Amber. I have to be there. Be good, okay? When I get back next week, we'll talk."

"No need," I said, lifting my suitcase. "We have nothing to talk about."

Ethan's face darkened completely.

I knew he hated this quiet, detached version of me the most.

"Fine," he snatched his forgotten documents from the table and walked toward the door, his voice cold. "Just a reminder: the Smith family trust meeting is next Wednesday. As Mrs. Smith, you are required to attend."

He was absolutely sure I wouldn't leave. He was sure I would show up next Wednesday, standing meekly by his side as his perfect wife.

I looked at his back and gave him a perfectly calm reply. "Okay."