Chapter 3

That evening, the moment I opened the front door, the overpowering smell of men's cologne hit me.

Snack wrappers were scattered across the couch, and a pair of men's underwear hung brazenly from the floor lamp.

Ethan sat cross-legged on the rug, playing video games, while Sophia lounged beside him with a glass of red wine in her hand.

"What the hell is he doing here?" I asked, fixing Sophia with a cold stare.

She answered as casually as if there was nothing unusual about the situation. "The victim took the money but still refuses to settle. I'm worried they might try to retaliate before the trial, so I told Ethan he could stay here for a couple of days. We have plenty of room, and he's practically family."

I pointed at the underwear hanging from the lamp. "Tell him to clean up his own mess."

Ethan tossed his controller aside and rolled his eyes before replying in a mocking tone, "Oh, come on, Blake. I'm just a laid-back guy. Unlike you, I guess I have better things to do than spend all day wiping down tables and sweeping floors. What's the harm in tidying up after me while you're at it?"

With that, he grabbed another pair of underwear from the couch and deliberately flung it at Sophia. It smacked her right in the face.

Ethan burst out laughing. "Hey, buddy! Hold on to that for me!"

Sophia didn't even flinch. She simply brushed the underwear away and shook her head with an amused, almost helpless smile, as though Ethan's behavior were nothing more than an endearing quirk.

Ethan winked at me. "Don't take it personally, Blake. This is just how we joke around."

Then he leaned back and added, "You used to intern at a law firm, didn't you? You should know how things are in our line of work. We don't make a big deal out of gender. We're all just one of the guys."

Sophia's smile faded as she turned to me, a hint of disdain creeping into her eyes.

"Blake, you're always so stiff and clueless. Ethan was just joking around. Who do you think you're giving attitude to?"

She rose to her feet and looked down at me condescendingly. "Besides, what can you even do these days besides a little housework?"

Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed into the study.

Ethan immediately jumped up and followed her. "Sophia, wait up! Let's go over my case."

A moment later, their laughter drifted out of the study, carrying easily through the house.

I stood alone in the living room, staring at the mess around me, momentarily lost in a daze.

Back in college, I'd been the top student in our law school class, while Sophia had ranked third. She'd been the one to pursue me, saving me seats in the library, waiting in line for me at the cafeteria, and showing up with an umbrella whenever it rained.

"Blake, you're the smartest guy I've ever met," she'd told me more than once.

During our final year, I received an offer from one of the country's top law firms. It was the kind of opportunity most law students could only dream of, but Sophia told me her own firm was still getting off the ground and that she needed someone to hold down the fort at home.

So I gave up my promising career and traded the courtroom for the kitchen. I took care of her ailing father and handled everything else around the house so she could devote herself to building her practice.

Now she'd made a name for herself, and all she saw when she looked at me was a man who did nothing but housework.

I took a deep breath and blinked back my tears. Since I'd already decided to divorce her, there was no reason to stay any longer. I might as well start packing and move out.

But as I passed the coffee table, my foot caught on something. I glanced down, and my breath caught in my throat.

At the bottom of the trash can lay several small objects, all cut into tiny pieces. They were the little festive sachets Dad had sewn by hand.

His stitches were tight and meticulous, but his eyesight had been failing, and he'd spent an entire afternoon making them. He'd told me they would bring us good luck and little moments of joy, then insisted I hang them in the living room.

I clenched the scraps of fabric in my fist, trembling with anger from head to toe.

Then I stormed toward the study and kicked the door open, interrupting their playful banter. "Who cut up the sachets?"

Sophia frowned at me. "They were just a few cheap trinkets. So what if they're ruined? Why are you making such a big deal out of it?"

Ethan stuck out his tongue in an exaggeratedly apologetic gesture. "Sorry, Blake. They looked so tacky I thought they must've been some cheap freebies you'd picked up at the grocery store. I was bored, so I grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting them up for fun."

I glared at him, digging my fingernails into my palms.

"My dad made those by hand!"

Sophia stood up and stepped in front of Ethan, her face clouded with impatience. "That's enough! They're just a few lousy sachets. Is this really worth getting so worked up over? Ethan didn't do it on purpose."

She pulled out her phone and opened a shopping app, as though she could settle the matter with a few taps on the screen.

"How about a Rolex? Would a three-thousand-dollar watch make up for it? I'll buy one tomorrow to make it up to your dad."