Chapter 1The Slow Bloom

I was so dumb. Dumb enough that when my husband brought another woman home, I thought he found me a new playmate. After all, Ethan was the first person who chased away my bullies and was willing to marry me.

That is, until he brought his mistress home again and laughed while telling her, "She's a dimwit. She won't make a scene, and she won't cry."

This time, I didn't laugh with him.

* * *

I stared down at the floor, twisting my fingers, watching the ash from his cigarette drift down.

"Get out," I said softly, as light as the ash itself.

"What did you say?" Ethan cocked his head, looking into my eyes, smiling as he asked.

Every time he thought I said something funny, he'd look at me like that.

I counted the planks on the wooden floor. One, two, three... When I got to the sixth, I said, "This is my room. You two get out."

The woman hugged him from behind. "Babe, what are you still doing? I can't wait."

I remembered her name was Linda. She was Ethan's secretary. Her voice always sounded strange, like she was deliberately tightening her throat.

Ethan stubbed out his cigarette on the doorframe and kissed her neck. "Hold on, can't you see someone's causing trouble?"

He turned back and patted my head. This time he patted it hard, making my head wobble. "Be a good girl and go sleep in the guest room tonight. Tomorrow, I'll take you to buy a new dress."

I looked up, my gaze landing on a scar on his collarbone. It was from a fight he got into for me. He used a beer bottle to smash the head of a guy who tried to pull my pants down. A shard of glass had cut him too. Blood dripped onto my hand, warm. I stared at that blood for a long time. Until he scolded me, "Little dummy, don't you know how to be scared?"

Now, that red scar rose and fell gently with his breathing. Next to it was a smear of lipstick, a different shade of red.

I said his name, emphasizing each syllable, "E-than."

"I'm not going to the guest room."

He frowned. "Don't make a scene. Listen to me."

I spoke slowly, "My room. My bed. You two get out."

Linda covered her mouth and giggled. Ethan's face darkened. He stopped petting my head and instead grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the room. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you annoying me right now?"

He was strong, and I had no choice but to be dragged along. One of my slippers fell off, and my bare foot slapped against the cold floor, slap, slap, slap. The hallway lights were dim, shining on our wedding photo on the wall. In the photo, he was looking down and kissing my forehead, while I stared at the camera with wide eyes and a blank expression.

The photographer had said, "Bride, give us a smile." I tried hard to pull the corners of my mouth up. But Ethan said, "Nah, don't smile. It's better like this. Pure."

Now I knew what he probably meant was, "purely stupid." Stupid enough that no one would respect me.