Chapter 3

After the IV treatment, my dizziness worsened. I nearly lost my balance after taking a few steps.

Ethan hadn't made contact—no phone calls or text messages.

I decided to call him first, hoping to prevent any confusion.

Upon hearing I was still at the medical facility, he hesitated briefly.

"I apologize, Emma. I intended to return for you after dropping Amanda off, but she developed stomach issues, so..."

His explanation was interrupted by a server's voice in the background. "Your order is ready, sir. Enjoy your meal!"

Despite Ethan's attempt to muffle the sound, I heard everything clearly.

"Don't worry. I can manage on my own."

I said this to comfort myself as much as him.

As I was about to end the call, Ethan suddenly spoke, "Emma, just go home. I'll provide an explanation later."

What was there to explain? More fabrications to keep me hanging on.

I hung up without responding and arranged transportation home.

However, Ethan didn't return that night.

Unable to sleep due to the fireworks display outside, I began working on custom jewelry designs for a client on my tablet.

While sketching, I accidentally opened the chat application in the corner, revealing a post from an hour earlier.

It was Amanda's: a stunning image of fireworks illuminating the night sky, accompanied by a poetic caption:

"Returning to you after so long. The fireworks greet me in all their splendor!"

I gazed at the post for a while, only then noticing that the chat app was still logged into Ethan's account on my device.

Uninterested in snooping through their exchanges, I simply signed out of the application.

The following day, feeling somewhat rejuvenated, I arrived at work on schedule.

My supervisor, holding my resignation letter, expressed both joy and sadness upon learning I was returning home to wed.

"Your departure means losing one of our most valuable team members."

At a loss for words, I embraced her, expressing gratitude for her years of support.

After completing the necessary paperwork, my coworkers learned of my news and insisted on a farewell dinner to celebrate my impending marriage.

I agreed and reserved a table at a restaurant Ethan and I often visited. It was one of the few eateries I was familiar with, and the cuisine was genuinely delicious.

Midway through the meal, I excused myself to use the restroom, only to encounter Amanda.

She greeted me cheerfully, "What a surprise to see you here! You know, this is where Ethan first brought me during our college days. We've dined here countless times."

I offered a polite smile and was about to leave, not feeling our relationship warranted casual conversation.

However, she seemed to disagree. As I was departing, she halted me once more.

"I noticed last time that Ethan always rinses the shrimp in water before peeling them for you. Do you also avoid spicy foods?"

The word 'also' gave me pause.

In truth, I enjoy spicy cuisine. But whenever Ethan peeled shrimp for me, he would insist on rinsing them.

He always claimed it wasn't healthy for a woman to consume too much spice.

I had always believed he was concerned for my well-being.

Now, I realized it was merely a habit.

The person who couldn't handle spicy food—the one he was thinking of—was Amanda.