Chapter 4

I didn't return to the Miller residence. Instead, I checked into a nearby hotel, planning to head back home the next day.

Late into the night, Ethan sent me a text on Snapchat.

Are you trying to threaten me by running away?

That trick won't work on me. As long as you refuse to apologize to Rachel, I will never forgive you.

I typed back: Okay.

Almost immediately, a long voice message came through, as if he had been glued to the screen.

"Glad you know you were wrong. Where are you? I..."

His voice sounded noticeably lighter. I didn't bother listening to the rest, simply typing the remainder of my thought.

I don't need your forgiveness.

The other end went dead silent. The "typing..." indicator flickered for a long time before a message finally popped up.

Fine, Chloe. Don't you dare regret this!

I won't...

The message failed to deliver. An exclamation mark appeared—he had blocked me.

A moment later, my phone pinged with another notification.

It was a message from Rachel.

Chloe, do you really think your miscarriage was just an accident I set up?

Ethan knew the whole time. If you want the truth, come back to the house right now.

What did that mean? My breath caught violently in my chest.

I still vividly remembered Ethan resting his head against my stomach, full of eager anticipation for our child.

When he learned about the miscarriage, the devastation and agony in his eyes didn't look fake.

Logic told me this was just Rachel trying to drive a wedge between us.

But what if it was true?

I didn't know what possessed me, but I rushed out of the hotel and ran through several red lights on the drive over.

When I arrived at the Miller villa, my sharp hearing picked up bursts of soft laughter coming from the master bedroom.

I froze. Peering through the cracked door, I saw Ethan lovingly holding Rachel in his arms, stroking her hair as she lay on the bridal bed I had painstakingly decorated.

"Ethan, maybe you should go comfort Chloe. She didn't come home tonight, I'm worried..."

"Relax, Rachel. She's madly in love with me. She'd never actually leave."

"In a few days, she'll come crawling back to beg for forgiveness. And when she does, I'm not going to let her off easy."

Ethan's voice came through, dripping with arrogance and lingering annoyance.

Rachel sounded worried. "Really? But today she looked like she wasn't just throwing a tantrum..."

"Don't bring her up!"

Ethan's tone turned unusually sharp. Seeing Rachel flinch, he quickly softened his voice.

"It's late. Go to sleep, Rachel. Don't ruin your sleep schedule over her."

"Okay, Ethan~"

Rachel snuggled obediently against his chest, wearing a look of pure, sweet devotion.

Yet her eyes flicked subtly toward the crack in the door as she casually pouted.

"So, when are you going to let me have your baby?"

My entire body froze.

"I was so mad when she got pregnant first. You promised me your firstborn would only be mine."

"Good thing she miscarried. She has no idea we set that up on purpose, otherwise she'd be throwing an even bigger fit."

Ethan affectionately pinched her nose.

"Stop pouting. I haven't forgotten my promise. Once you recover your health in a few weeks, we'll..."

The two of them exchanged sweet promises like newlyweds. Every single word plunged like a knife into my bleeding heart.

Rachel gave Ethan an excited kiss, but then seemed to remember something and hesitated.

"What if Chloe finds out?"

Silence fell over the bedroom for a second.

Then, Ethan let out a dismissive chuckle.

"She won't. And even if she does, I'll just make up an excuse. She always believes whatever I say."

The moment those words left his mouth, a chilling numbness crawled from my spine and spread throughout my limbs.

In a daze, my mind drifted back to the day I told Ethan I was pregnant.

His face had frozen, utterly speechless for a long time. Back then, I thought he was just overwhelmed with excitement at becoming a father.

Now I finally saw it for what it was: guilt and cold-blooded calculation.

The world went completely silent and gray. Whatever shred of love I had left for Ethan died entirely.

A screaming wave of devastation threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

Yet I didn't kick the door open to confront them. Instead, I turned around and walked away into the dark, as if I had never been there.

Outside, rain poured from the sky, washing over my face until I couldn't tell the difference between raindrops and tears.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my father back in New York.

"Dad, I'm not getting married," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I'll take you up on that offer to move abroad."