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Chapter 3

I'd just finished packing when I heard keys turning in the lock outside.

The door opened, and Ethan walked in.

Travel-worn, still in his work shirt, brow furrowed, eyes clearly impatient.

He looked around, his gaze landing on the empty living room.

Half the books missing from the bookshelf, a gap in the shoe rack by the entrance, the couch cushions I'd taken, the photo gone from the table.

His expression grew darker and darker.

"What kind of tantrum are you throwing?" he asked coldly. "Won't you be satisfied until you've torn the whole place apart?"

I looked up at him, my tone eerily calm.

"I'm not throwing a tantrum."

He paused, frowning: "Then what's all this about?"

I smiled faintly, my voice light.

"I understand now. Take good care of Judy."

He was clearly stunned, his gaze flickering: "Sarah, I—"

I cut him off, my expression still gentle: "It's okay. You don't need to explain."

He obviously hadn't expected me to say that. He stood there for a moment, seemingly still processing my words.

After a few seconds, he visibly relaxed, as if finally unburdened.

"Sarah, I know you're hurting." His tone softened considerably. "After things settle down with Judy, I'll make it up to you, I swear. I'll give you the most magnificent wedding, more magnificent than anyone's."

I looked at him, feeling nothing in my heart.

He thought I was compromising. In reality, I was saying goodbye.

"Okay." I nodded, smiling in agreement. "I'll wait for you."

Looking at me, he seemed genuinely reassured, a slight smile forming at the corner of his mouth.

"You're always so understanding," he said.

Then his phone rang.

He glanced down—it was the hospital.

His brow furrowed, and his tone immediately turned urgent.

"What? She fainted again? Okay, I'll be right there!"

He looked up at me with an apologetic smile: "I have to go. Judy's having an episode. Get some rest early."

With that, he hurried out, the door closing behind him.

The room fell silent again.

I sat quietly on the sofa, listening to his footsteps fade away outside, until I couldn't hear them anymore.

I closed my eyes, and many images flooded my mind—

That year when I had a fever of 104 degrees.

Late at night with a splitting headache, I called him.

He said: "I'm working overtime. Just take some medicine and sleep it off."

The next morning, I collapsed at home alone and was found by a neighbor who took me to the hospital.

When I woke up, he finally showed up, bringing takeout and a distracted expression.

"Sorry, I was too busy last night."

I'd always thought he was just awkward, unable to express himself properly.

But now I understood—

A person who truly loves you won't let you suffer through the night alone.

I met Ethan in college, right after Judy had dumped him.

The reason was brutally simple—

"I don't want a long-distance relationship. Your school is too far from me. Let's end this."

He begged her for a long time. She was cold, then turned and threw herself into someone else's arms.

That night, I ran into him at a bar.

He was blackout drunk, surrounded by several women mocking him.

I stepped forward, blocked the drinks being pushed on him, and helped him leave.

He leaned on my shoulder, tears soaking my clothes.

"She's gone... she really left..."

In that moment, I felt pity.

Perhaps it was that illusion of "wanting to save a wounded person" that made me think I could heal him.

Later, he pursued me.

He brought flowers, cooked meals, took me traveling, saying with a smile that I'd made him believe in love again.

At the time, I genuinely believed he'd let go of the past.

But I was wrong.

He never forgot.

He just used me as a replacement.

After all these years together, he let go just like that. Behind my back, he got his marriage license with his first love and even got her pregnant.