I’m your cousin？

Thinking something had happened to Liam, Ava grabbed her coat and stood up without saying a word, walking straight out.

Ethan, who had been sitting at the same table with her, noticed her sudden change in expression. He grabbed his car keys and followed her out. "What's wrong?"

Ava forced a smile. "I'm heading to Hudson Lounge. You guys go ahead and enjoy your meal."

Ethan jingled his keys in his hand. "I'll drive you."

Ava was in a hurry and didn't bother refusing. She just whispered a quick thank you.

Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up in front of Hudson Lounge.

Ava stepped out, striding toward the entrance. The wind lifted the hem of her trench coat, revealing her long, slender legs.

Her grip on the door handle tightened, fingers turning pale. It felt like a sharp thorn had lodged itself in her heart.

Her gaze landed on Liam. He held a glass in his hand, but his eyes were sharp and clear—he wasn't the least bit drunk.

Sophia, seeing Ava enter, deliberately leaned in closer to Liam, a smug smile on her face.

Ava chuckled to herself.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said lightly and turned to leave.

David immediately pulled out his chair, caught up with her, and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to Liam's side. "Ava, this seat belongs to you. Don't let someone else take it."

He patted her shoulder, silently signaling her to stay calm.

Liam stared at the spot where David had patted her shoulder for a moment, then picked up a sanitizing wipe and slowly, meticulously, wiped the area.

Ava laughed.

He found it dirty just because David touched her?

But what about him?

He had just been holding Sophia in his arms, feeding her soup so intimately. Who was really the "dirty" one here?

She pressed her lips together tightly, afraid that if she spoke, she would say something she'd regret.

They had been married for five years, and not once had she argued with him—not even a small fight.

Even when he had been unable to walk for two years, when he was moody, irritable, throwing things, lashing out—she had never once complained.

Now, as they were about to divorce, she saw no reason to change that.

She only blamed herself.

She shouldn't have rushed over in a panic the moment she heard something had happened to him—only to humiliate herself.

After a brief stalemate, Liam finally turned to Sophia and said, "Sophia, you should head home."

Sophia pouted, clearly reluctant, but still got up. She smiled at Ava. "Ava, don't be mad. Liam and I were just having dinner. David can vouch for that."

Sophia pouted slightly, reluctant, but still stood up and said to Ava, "Ava, don't be mad. Liam and I were just having a meal together. David can vouch for that."

David, sitting to the side, nearly rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

Just having a meal? They were practically putting on a live romantic drama—feeding each other shrimp, offering sips of water, spooning soup for each other. If he hadn't been sitting there glaring at them, these two would have long turned sparks into a full-blown fire.

Seeing that no one was stopping her, Sophia grabbed her coat from the back of the chair and prepared to leave.

With a "crash," the edge of her coat swept a glass off the table. The glass fell to the ground and shattered into pieces.

Sophia quickly bent down to pick up the fragments, but her finger brushed against a sharp shard, instantly drawing blood.

She let out a sharp cry, clutching her injured finger as tears welled up in her eyes, trembling from the pain.

Holding onto the corner of the table, her lips quivering, she looked at Liam and pleaded, "It hurts, Liam. My hand hurts so much. Can you take me to the hospital?"

David smirked. "I'll take you. Ava is still here; don't make things worse for her."

Sophia's expression stiffened. She raised her blood-streaked hand and clutched Liam's sleeve tightly, her eyes red and pitiful like a helpless rabbit. "Liam, I want you to take me."

Liam hesitated for a moment, then stood up and turned to Ava. "Let David take you home. I'll take Sophia to the hospital and meet you later."

With that, he picked up Sophia's purse, supported her by the shoulder, and walked out.

Ava remained unusually calm.

Without rushing, she called over the waiter and signed the bill.

After signing, she even had the untouched dishes packed to go.

Once everything was packed, she politely thanked the waiter and tipped a hundred dollars.

Carrying the takeout, she walked out with David.

She did this to avoid running into Liam and Sophia.

She didn't want to see them nestled together, looking like the perfect couple.

It would hurt too much.

As they waited for the elevator, David silently observed Ava, who was eerily composed, and sighed. "Ava, you're a good woman."

"Thank you." Ava stood tall and graceful, her face carrying a fixed, polite smile, almost like the serene expressions seen in memorial portraits.

"Being a good woman is great and all, but sometimes, it can be a little boring. Men like women who are elegant and dignified in public, but at home, you need to be playful, passionate, unpredictable. Be coy when needed, act weak when necessary, be thick-skinned when required, and use your wit when it counts. Ava, put in a little effort. Otherwise, you won't win against Sophia."

"Is Sophia passionate?" Ava asked softly.

"Damn right, she's as bold as they come," David grumbled. "If I hadn't been sitting there, those two would have combusted on the spot. Ava, you have to find a way to keep Liam's heart."

Ava tightened her grip on the takeout bag, emotions churning inside her.

She had always believed that loving someone sincerely and treating them well was enough, but apparently, it wasn't.

But being flirtatious? That just wasn't in her nature.

She was raised by her grandparents—her grandfather was strict and serious, her grandmother dignified and poised, and her mother a straightforward, no-nonsense woman.

She simply didn't have the ability to be playful and seductive.

They walked downstairs.

Liam hadn't left. He stood by his car, smoking, waiting for her.

When he saw them, he put out his cigarette and walked up, gently placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning in slightly. His gaze was soft, and his voice was gentle. "I'll be back soon. Don't overthink things."

Ava forced a smile despite her heartache.

If only he could just hurt her completely and be done with it—then she would have a reason to hate him.

But instead, he remained polite, refined, and seemingly affectionate, making it impossible for her to truly despise him.

All she could do was act both understanding and stubborn, saying, "You should hurry and take her to the hospital."

"Alright." Seeing that she didn't seem to care, Liam turned and got into his car.

The driver started the engine and headed toward the hospital.

Ava turned to David and said, "I came with my coworkers. The gathering isn't over yet, so you don't need to take me home. Go take care of your own things."

"Alright. Just don't forget what I said. We all recognize you as the only one for Liam."

"Thanks."

Ava walked toward Ethan's car and got in.

As Ethan started the car and backed out, he asked, "Who was that guy?"

"Who?"

"Liam Carter, second son of the Carter Group."

Ava hesitated, unsure how to answer.

If she said ex-husband, well, they weren't divorced yet.

If she said husband, he had already asked for a divorce, even offering a settlement, and his heart was clearly with Sophia.

After a pause, she said, "He's family."

"You're Ava, and he's Liam. Is he your cousin?"

Ava hesitated for a moment before giving a vague "Mm."

Three years ago, when Liam was injured and wheelchair-bound, holding a wedding wasn't convenient, so they had only registered their marriage. Other than close family, no one knew they were married.

Now that they were about to divorce, there was even less reason to publicize it.

Cousin? Sure, why not.

Sensing her low spirits, Ethan asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Come on, you're obviously troubled."

"Ethan, what kind of women do men like?" Ava asked, her heart tangled in knots.

Ethan chuckled. "Different tastes for different men. Some like curvy women, some like slender ones. As for me..."

His eyes flickered as he stole a glance at her profile.

Her delicate face, large expressive eyes, and long eyelashes cast soft shadows under the dim streetlights. She looked almost ethereal, like a painting.

His heart skipped a beat, and he said, "I appreciate women like you—graceful, intelligent, and effortlessly beautiful. Talented yet humble, with a quiet strength."

Ava gave a faint smile.

So, there were still men who liked women like her.

It turned out that being loved didn't have to be exhausting.

She didn't have to pretend, to change, to manipulate—she could just be herself, and someone would still appreciate her.

"I'm just an art authenticator. Nothing as grand as you make it sound," she said, her mood lifting slightly.

"Not just any art authenticator. Your expertise in authenticating oil paintings is among the best in the industry. Many so-called experts couldn't match your skills in their lifetime."

"You flatter me. I've been learning from my grandfather since I was a child. He taught me personally, one-on-one, and I had the advantage of starting young, practicing more. If I still couldn't do it well, I'd be letting him down."

"Talent and effort matter too. And your patience. Art authentication requires an immense amount of patience, which most young people today lack. The field is dying out."

"That's true."

As the car turned a corner, Ava said, "Can you take me home? I don't want to go back to the hotel."

"Of course."

When they arrived at Ava's apartment complex, she grabbed the takeout and got out of the car.

Ethan followed suit. "It's late. Let me walk you up."

"Thanks."

Taking the food from her hands, Ethan smiled. Having grown up around wealthy socialites, he found it amusing that she actually packed up leftovers. Given her high salary as a renowned art authenticator, she hardly needed to be thrifty.

After walking her to the building entrance, Ethan hesitated, not wanting to leave just yet. They chatted about work, enjoying the serene night.

Suddenly, Ava's expression froze.

A tall figure approached from the distance, his posture straight and imposing, exuding undeniable charm.

Even from afar, she instantly recognized him—it was Liam.

She frowned. Hadn't he taken Sophia to the hospital? Why was he back so soon?

Noticing her reaction, Ethan turned and chuckled. "Your cousin is here."

Ava's breath hitched, and she replied lightly, "Mm."

As Liam reached them, Ethan extended a polite hand and said, "You must be Ava's cousin. Nice to meet you, I'm Ethan, her colleague."

Liam's gaze turned cold as he looked at Ava, his voice icy. "I'm your cousin?"