Chapter 2

Then, trying to make it sound like a joke, I added, "Are you going to pull strings for me?"

Ethan's brows drew together.

He answered seriously. There was not the slightest trace of humor in his eyes.

"This was a decision made by senior management.

"The final proposal won't be decided by me alone."

In other words, even as his wife, I would not be an exception.

I stopped asking.

He was always like this: calm, distant, principled, logical. He never made exceptions for me.

And I was always humiliating myself by hoping that one day, I might become one.

Ethan walked away and entered the study.

He did not close the door completely.

From the living room, I could hear him on the phone.

The woman on the other end was Vanessa.

Every now and then, Ethan answered her with a low laugh.

After the call, he came out of the study, picked up his coat from the entryway, and changed into his dress shoes.

"I have a dinner meeting tonight."

I nodded.

Ethan was painfully handsome. Sharp features, a straight nose, thin lips, a tailored suit under a dark overcoat that made him look even taller and more untouchable.

Then he disappeared through the front door.

He came home very late that night.

Any question I might have asked died the moment I saw Vanessa's post.

She had posted a photo with four people in it.

Vanessa. Ethan. And two of their old college friends.

Once I saw it, I no longer needed to ask whether he would favor Vanessa.

I knew he would.

In the past, whenever Ethan came home late, I left a light on for him.

That night, I turned it off and slept better than I expected.

The next morning, Ethan and I missed each other completely and went to work separately.

In the design department, everyone revolved around Vanessa.

They all understood that if not for her, Ethan would never have chosen our company.

My conflict with Vanessa was my own problem.

Everyone else only cared about bonuses and whether the year's targets would be met.

That day, Ethan came to the office as the investor.

Our department head called Vanessa in to meet him.

When she returned, every pair of eyes landed on her.

"Vanessa, is Mr. Cole scary?"

Vanessa's lips curved. Her answer was vague enough to invite imagination.

"I've known him for a long time. He's not scary.

"Don't worry."

Several people exchanged knowing smiles.

By then, I had already clicked through the link someone had shared about Ethan and Vanessa's college romance.

If I were not Ethan's wife, I might have sighed and called young love beautiful.

But as his wife, all I could taste was bitterness.

Vanessa still had an old college blog she had never deleted.

It was filled with entries about their relationship.

I scrolled through them like a person pressing on a bruise.

The more I read, the clearer it became.

Ethan had loved her.

He read every post she wrote, liked them, commented on them, and remembered every small detail.

He was the one who pursued Vanessa.

I had spent an entire year chasing Ethan.

When I first learned that Vanessa was his ex-girlfriend, I felt a brief, shameful flash of satisfaction.

It felt like revenge.

But I quickly realized I had lost completely.

For Ethan to still carry his ex in his heart was not a victory for me.

It was an insult.

And it gave Vanessa one more way to stand above me.

Vanessa and I had been enemies since middle school.