Chapter 2

A sudden vibration from my phone pulled me back from my spiraling thoughts.

Chloe had sent another voice note.

"Sean Miller, are you dead or just deaf? It's been half an hour and you still haven't brought the noodles. You're completely useless."

I let out a cold laugh and replied,

"If you're in such a rush, why don't you get them yourselves? Or are you two too busy cheating on that hotel bed to step out?"

Chloe blew up instantly.

"Cut the sarcastic bullshit! Tristan was terrified yesterday, so of course I need to take care of him! He's only like this because you scared him with your threats to press charges. Why do you have to push him into a corner? It was just a scratch! He just needs a few days of rest, okay?!"

The rage inside me finally erupted.

"Fine. Come meet me at this address. You show up, and I promise I won't press charges."

Sneering, I sent her the location of the funeral home. I wanted her to see with her own eyes just how fatal her idea of a "scratch" really was.

Desperate to save Tristan, Chloe arrived in barely thirty minutes.

She stormed into the hall, her high heels clicking aggressively, only to freeze when she saw me draped in mourning black, standing right beside my mother's funeral portrait.

Her face drained of all color. She stared at me in sheer panic.

"No... How is that possible? How could she be dead? It was just a scratch..."

My lips tightened into a thin line as I pulled the death certificate from my coat and shoved it into her hands.

"I don't joke around with my mother's life. The moment you walked out yesterday, the doctors pronounced her dead."

"Tristan lied to you. He wasn't going twenty. He was going over seventy."

Chloe stumbled, collapsing onto the floor, constantly repeating that it was impossible.

After all, over the years, everyone knew how well my mother had treated her.

This time, Chloe didn't roll her eyes or complain. She stayed by my side, going through the entire memorial service with me. No matter how many times Tristan called her phone, she didn't answer.

That night, she broke her usual routine. Instead of going her own way, she asked me to take her home.

We didn't say a single word during the drive.

After a day like that, my entire body felt paralyzed with exhaustion.

Once I showered and laid down, Chloe—who had been sleeping in a separate bedroom for ages—crawled into my bed and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind.

A tiny spark of warmth flared in my chest, easing some of the suffocating grief from earlier.

"Sean, there's something I need to talk to you about."

I turned around to face her, only to see her looking conflicted.

"What is it? Just say it. We've been married for years."

Chloe looked up at me, hesitating before she spoke.

"Could you drop the charges against Tristan? Your mom is already gone. Why drag Tristan down with her? Besides, he knows he was wrong."

I froze, then bolted upright.

"What did you just say?"

Chloe's face tightened with impatience.

"Why are you getting so worked up? Your mom was getting old anyway. It wouldn't have been unusual for her to pass away soon. But Tristan is only in his twenties! Why can't you be a little considerate of him?"

I shook with rage, struggling to keep myself from screaming.

"So everything you did today was just an act to make me forgive him? You're delusional. My mother was murdered, and I will get her justice!"

With that, I turned my back on her.

Furious, she stormed out of bed and into the living room. In a fit of rage, she grabbed my mother's framed portrait and hurled it onto the floor, the glass shattering into a thousand pieces.

I dropped to my knees, picking up the shards one by one, ignoring the jagged glass cutting into my palms.

"Chloe, let's get a divorce."

Chloe let out a scoff. She nudged my chin up with the tip of her shoe, her tone dripping with mockery.

"Sean, you're nothing more than a stray dog to me. Just because you've hung around for a few years, you think you're somebody? I only married you out of pity. Who gave you the right to ask for a divorce?"

"Let me remind you: a dog does what its master says. Otherwise, you get dumped on the street."

With a hard kick to my shoulder, she sent me sprawling. I kept my head down against the pain, while she turned and walked away with a cold laugh.

The front door slammed shut. I wiped away my tears, carefully cradling my mother's picture and brushing off the dust.

This time, I was completely, utterly done with Chloe.