Chapter 4The Day the Shoulder Rubs Stopped

After sending a few rapid-fire texts on his phone, Ethan caught up to me.

"Great. You refuse to cook just so you can come here and hustle for shoes? Is that all you have in your brain? Shoes?"

I didn't answer. I walked into a clothing boutique, intending to buy myself a couple of new outfits.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, speaking with exasperated resignation. "I know you're misunderstanding my relationship with Chloe again."

"How many times do I have to tell you? She was an underclassman in my college program. We were good friends back then. We coincidentally ran into each other during a recent project, so we've been interacting more."

"She was just abandoned by her ex-husband. She was forced to find a job and was being bullied by twenty-something interns. I felt bad for her, so I helped her out a bit."

I gave a half-smile. "So, you drop two and a half grand on a designer bag without a second thought? You massage her shoulders in public?"

He opened his mouth but hesitated.

After a long pause, he squeezed out a sentence: "Fine, I'll buy you the exact same bag. Will that make you happy?"

I had seen this attitude from him entirely too many times.

Six months ago, Chloe visited our house for the first time. From that day on, the lingering scent of her rose perfume never left my home.

It was also around that time that the quality of Ethan's shoulder rubs began to decline.

First, the speed slowed down.

Then, the pressure became lighter.

Finally, the duration shortened...

I slowly started losing sleep. During the day, I felt lethargic and powerless. When I brought it up, he accused me of picking fights over nothing.

Whenever he threw a temper tantrum, I became unhappy.

And whenever that happened, he would buy some cheap trinket to appease me.

Now, I was utterly exhausted by this dynamic.

I sent him a screenshot.

"There were people who recognized you in the livestream just now. You're currently up for a promotion. If rumors of an illicit affair spread, you'll probably get pushed out."

"Right now, everyone is guessing you're having an affair. Unless we're divorced, there is no legitimate reason for the two of you to be together in a shoe store like that."

He rubbed his temples.

"Can you stop making a scene? We have a son. Do you think I don't know what you're plotting? You're just paranoid and trying to use this trick to sever all my social connections!"

"Let me make this perfectly clear: Chloe and I have a completely innocent relationship. And stop using divorce to threaten me, because I don't believe for a second that you'd abandon our son."

"If you insist on a divorce, fine. I get custody of Leo, and you'll never see him again for the rest of your life."

I nodded. "Deal. Let's do it."

He froze.

"You're completely unreasonable!"

He stormed off in a rage.

He didn't buy a single thing for our son, despite his earlier excuses.

I shopped until eight o'clock that night before heading home.

As soon as I opened the door, I heard Leo grunting and making aggressive slicing noises.

I thought he was playing a video game.

I turned my head and saw him using a pair of scissors to frantically slash at a Louis Vuitton bag.

When he saw me, he scoffed coldly and threw the shredded, ruined bag at my feet.

"Daddy bought this for you! It was super expensive, over two thousand dollars! But you didn't cook for me today, and you didn't help me with my homework, and you made me eat instant ramen for dinner! I have to punish you!"

With that, he picked up a slipper and hurled it directly at the mangled bag.

"I'm punishing you by making sure you don't get the bag! Hmph!"

I looked at him calmly. "Do you think using that tone with your mother is appropriate?"

The corner of his mouth curled up as he clicked his tongue. "What kind of mother are you? Someone like Aunt Chloe is a real mother. She's pretty, she smells nice... Having a mom like that go to my parent-teacher conferences would actually give me some dignity."

The very last, tiny spark of hope in my heart was permanently extinguished.

I asked him, "Where's your dad? Why didn't he come home to cook for you?"

He threw his hands up. "He didn't come home! A delivery guy brought this bag. Daddy is busy with work, of course he doesn't have time to come home. He's not like you, lounging around all day doing absolutely nothing!"

I asked again, "Did he tell you to eat instant ramen?"

He put his hands on his hips. "Daddy is working overtime! He doesn't have time to cook for me! Besides, that's your job, you can't just push everything onto him!"

I let out a soft laugh. "Do you really believe he's working overtime?"

He shrugged. "What else would he be doing?"

I waved him over. "Come on. I'll take you out to eat."

He lifted his chin high, like a victorious general.

"I want fried chicken!"

"No fried chicken. I'm taking you to a steakhouse."

He got excited. "The really expensive one downtown?"

"Yes."

Half an hour later, we arrived at the entrance of the restaurant.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Ethan and Chloe were sitting across from each other.

He was attentively wiping her mouth with a napkin.

At the same time, his other arm was wrapped around a little boy who was playfully climbing on his back.

It was Chloe's son, Toby.

Ethan generously handed his own phone over to let the boy play games.

The little boy kissed Ethan on the cheek and laughed, "Daddy Ethan, you're the best."

In that exact split second, Leo bolted from my side and charged through the doors.