Chapter 3

"I said yesterday that I'd make up your gift to you, but I didn't make it in time. Today... consider it made up."

I froze for a moment.

Only then did I remember his words right before leaving the house yesterday: "I'll bring you a gift when I get back tonight."

I hadn't expected him to actually remember.

However, looking at the receipt, the timestamp showed it was printed just half an hour ago.

Most likely, he had seen that I liked Chelsea's social media post and felt a twinge of guilt. He had probably just grabbed a bag at a counter along the roadside on his way home as a form of compensation.

I didn't reach out for it, nor did I say a word.

Ethan placed the bag on the bed, hesitating for a moment. "By the way, regarding next month's selection for the law firm's Star Employee... could you..."

"Let Chelsea have it?"

He hadn't expected me to speak first and nodded awkwardly. "She's just starting out in the industry and really needs this kind of recognition. You've already won it several times..."

As it turned out, this convenient, last-minute gift had already been secretly marked with a price.

I nodded. "Okay."

He froze. He probably hadn't expected me to agree so readily.

"You're... not angry?"

I shook my head.

There was nothing to be angry about. From now on, everything Chelsea needed—whether it was the Star Employee award or Ethan's favoritism—was something I no longer had any use for.

His expression relaxed, and he added another line: "Chelsea is my mentee, and you're essentially her mentor's wife. It's only right to be broad-minded."

"Oh, right. Let's find some time tomorrow morning to go to City Hall."

I stared at him, keeping silent.

He seemed to recall something. "I almost forgot you still have to travel. What time is your flight tomorrow?"

"Three in the afternoon."

"Then we have plenty of time," he said immediately, his tone absolutely certain. "Tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, meet me at the entrance of City Hall. I've already found a photographer and paid the deposit."

I was just about to tell him that there was no need, that there was no longer any point in registering our marriage.

But right at that moment, his phone rang yet again.

On the screen, the name displayed was still Chelsea.

Her voice sounded soft and weak over the line, claiming her stomach hurt severely and asking if Ethan could take her to the hospital.

He hung up the phone, a rare look of hesitation appearing on his face.

I said calmly, "Just go."

As if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders, he stepped forward and gave me a quick hug. "Dress up nicely tomorrow. I'll definitely be there. I won't break my promise."

With that, he grabbed his jacket and walked out.

The moment the door slammed shut, I glanced at the Louis Vuitton bag on the bed. The receipt was still tucked inside the pocket.

Without opening the box, I put it back into the shopping bag exactly as it was and placed it on the top shelf of the closet. Resting right there were two other bags of the same brand in different colors—both of which he had "conveniently" bought for me in the past.

At nine-thirty the next morning.

I zipped up my last suitcase and took one final look around the room. In the closet, Ethan's clothes were hung up neatly, while my side was completely empty.

Nine-forty-five.

There were only fifteen minutes left until the time he had agreed upon for us to register our marriage.

I hailed a cab and set off for the airport.

At exactly ten o'clock, his chat log remained completely quiet. There was not a single message, nor a single phone call.

In fact, all the way until noon, I never received a call from Ethan asking why I hadn't shown up at City Hall.

In the afternoon, after checking in and printing my boarding pass, I walked over to the departure gate. Just as I was preparing to board the plane, my phone finally vibrated. It was a message from Ethan.

Two texts arrived one right after the other.

[Honey, Chelsea needs someone by her side at the hospital, so I'm afraid I won't make it to register our marriage today.]

[When you come back from your business trip this time, I'll pick you up at the airport. We'll head straight to City Hall first thing. I absolutely won't delay it this time.]

Looking at the text, my heart remained entirely undisturbed.

As expected, when it came to our eighteenth attempt to register the marriage, he still hadn't shown up.

With an unwavering expression, I held my phone and typed back word for word:

"There's no need, Ethan. I've already resigned from the firm, and I'm currently on my way to start a new job abroad."

"After today, we have nothing to do with each other."

After sending that final message, I intended to turn off my phone.

But in the very next second, the screen suddenly lit up.

That familiar phone number began flashing wildly across the screen, ringing over and over again without stopping.