Chapter 33: It's me Alicia

Alicia looked at Ethan with an unreadable expression. “I don’t know who you are,” she said calmly.

Ethan’s face tightened. Refusing to give up, he pressed on. “It’s me. I’m Ethan. Think—really think. You can’t just forget me.”

A firm voice cut in. “My wife doesn’t know who you are. Stop pestering her,” Andy said as he rolled closer in his wheelchair.

Alicia’s lips curved when she saw him. “Honey, are you done with your meetings?”

“Yes,” Andy replied.

Alicia turned away from Ethan as if he weren’t there. “You must be tired,” she told Andy. “Come rest in my room tonight.”

Ethan flinched as if struck. The vein on his forehead stood out; his fists curled at his sides. He watched numbly as Alicia took hold of Andy’s wheelchair and guided him toward the house.

“Alicia!” he called after her.

She didn’t so much as glance back. Andy frowned. “Why is he calling you Alicia?”

“He’s a fool,” she said evenly, and kept moving.

Ethan stood rooted, regret clawing at him as they disappeared into the mansion. Finally he turned away, each step heavy. Memories crowded in—laughter, promises, the life they’d once sworn to build.

Half an hour later, at the gates of Alexander’s estate, he paused and looked back. “I know you remember me,” he whispered. “You’re pretending not to. I’m sorry for the hurt—for the betrayal. I may never make it right, but please… give me a chance to prove I’m truly sorry.”

He summoned a taxi and rode home in silence.

When he opened his front door, Emily sat in the living room with a drink in hand, waiting. “I thought you’d stay there like a loyal dog until you convinced her she’s your ex-wife,” she said, her voice laced with contempt. “Why are you back?”

“I saw it in her eyes,” Ethan said, exhausted. “She recognized me. She is Alicia. I don’t—”

The glass shattered as Emily hurled it to the floor. She glared at him, eyes bloodshot. “Don’t you dare bring her up in this house again,” she hissed. “If you do, Ethan, I won’t just divorce you—I’ll make sure you stay jobless and broke until your last breath. Do you understand?”

Frustration flickered across his face. “I’m sor—”

“That’s not the answer I’m expecting,” she cut in, ice-cold.

He drew a slow breath. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good,” she said, and stormed off.

After she left, Ethan sank onto the couch, lost in thought. After a long moment, he rose and went to his study. He opened the door and scanned the room. In the corner behind a shelf sat a safe.

He walked over, crouched, and slid his fingers beneath it, retrieving a hidden key. He unlocked the safe and drew out a photo album.

He turned the pages slowly. There they were—he and Alicia at the beginning: sunlit snapshots at the beach, candid smiles at the zoo, quiet moments on dates. One photo stopped him cold: Christmas, the two of them beaming beside a lopsided snowman.

“Alicia… those eyes. They never change. I know it’s you. I know it’s you,” Ethan murmured, conviction hardening his voice.

Unaware of his resolve, Alicia watched Andy with a faint smile as he edged toward his car. “You’re running away, aren’t you?” she asked calmly. Earlier, she’d settled him in her room to rest while she went to make something to eat; nothing from the birthday party had appealed to her.

Caught, Andy cleared his throat, flustered. “I—I—”

Alicia didn’t wait for an explanation. She leaned in, brushed a quick kiss against his cheek, and whispered, “Goodnight.”

Then she turned and walked away without looking back. Andy stood frozen, stunned. When he finally came to his senses, she was gone. He hesitated a moment, then got into his car.

Assistant Luke sat beside him. After a brief silence, he said, “I think you should tell her the truth.”

Andy glanced at him, then sighed wearily. “I think she already knows.”

Luke blinked, taken aback, but Andy abruptly shifted the topic. “What did you find?”

Luke straightened and delivered his report. “The man who keeps pestering your wife—his name is Ethan Walter. He was once married to a woman named Alicia. He and his current wife, Emily, plotted against her and had her sent to prison many years ago. Catherine was involved back then…”

Andy’s fingers stopped tapping the armrest of his wheelchair. His lashes lowered, casting a shadow over his eyes. “I think I know who my future wife is,” he murmured.

A faint smile tugged at his lips, but Luke quickly interjected. “Sir, you must be mistaken. Ethan’s wife is very… different. She isn’t beautiful at all. I have a photo.”

Feeling indignant on his boss’s behalf, Luke pulled out a picture of Alicia from her marriage to Ethan and handed it over. Andy studied it with a soft, almost nostalgic gaze; the smile on his lips deepened.

“Boss,” Luke protested, reading his expression, “they don’t look alike at all. If Ethan’s wife were as pretty as Catherine, he wouldn’t have thrown her away for his mistress.”

He sighed bitterly. “Ethan’s a real gigolo. Alicia did so much for him, and he still sacrificed her just to please Emily. A man like that is unreliable—and dangerous.”

Andy’s eyes hardened. “End all cooperation with his company.”