His Secret Family Next Door, I'm Done Being the Perfect Wife

Ethan loved me. Everyone knew it. He spoiled me so much that I didn't even know how to boil water. He turned me into a completely dependent princess. And then, he suddenly let me catch him being intimate with another woman. That woman lived right across the hall. They even had a three-year-old son. Our home and theirs were practically connected. Taking advantage of a career transfer, I chose to leave. Ethan went crazy looking for me: "Do you really have no feelings left for me?" I held my new boyfriend's hand, showing off a giant diamond ring: "I'm getting married." "Dr. Claire, your transfer application has been approved. Remember to report on time after the New Year holiday. Are you free after shift tonight? The department booked a restaurant to send you off." Dr. Miller, the chief of surgery, was incredibly warm to me. Actually, all my colleagues in the department treated me well. As the only female urologist specializing in male reproductive health in the entire hospital, I was naturally the pampered favorite of the department. "I can't let you spend your money, Chief. I should buy the dinner. But my schedule is tight, so I'll have to skip the meal." As a married woman, I always kept a strict professional distance from my male colleagues. I always steered clear of social dinners where drinking was guaranteed. I had no choice. I had a husband who got jealous incredibly easily. It was a sweet, yet exhausting burden. Excited about my upcoming transfer, I headed home. Before I even opened the door, I heard loud, rowdy laughter coming from inside. "Ethan, man, you've been married for seven years. Why don't you have a kid yet?" Ethan's childhood friend, Luke, teased him. "Don't tell me you have performance issues? Why don't you let your wife treat you?" Ethan sneered, "I'm perfectly fine, damn it!" Luke laughed. "Well, I really want a son. Maybe I should have a doctor check me out. Claire is pretty good. I'll just have her examine me. I'm sure she has a magic touch!" I froze, my hand hovering over the doorknob. I waited for Ethan to curse out the classless Luke. There was an unwritten rule among friends: you don't disrespect a friend's wife. Luke acted like he had never heard of it. If he had formally booked an appointment at the hospital, it would be different. To a doctor, patients have no gender. But saying it like this, in a casual setting, felt incredibly dirty and suggestive. Luke had always been a creep. He had looked at me inappropriately a few times. Fearing Ethan would misunderstand, I always avoided him and never brought it up to Ethan. Then, Ethan spoke, his voice casual. "As soon as Claire gets back, I'll have her take a look at you. Don't be shy. She looks at dozens of men's junk every single day. What's one more?" The sheer humiliation in his words was impossible to ignore. I couldn't even pretend to misunderstand. Another familiar voice interrupted. "Ethan, that's not right." "Nothing wrong with it. Honestly, she seems to enjoy it. When the time comes, I'll have her check all of you. You can even compare sizes right in front of her." His tone was completely indifferent. He spoke of me as if I were a piece of property, a toy he could generously share with his buddies on a whim. My legs went weak. I stumbled and fell to the cold floor of the hallway. My purse unzipped, and my things spilled everywhere. My transfer approval letter landed right in front of my eyes. If it had eyes, it would be mocking me right now. This was the marriage I had fought so hard to protect. It was a total joke. I had always known Ethan hated that I was a urologist. But I believed my conscience was clear. I kept my relationships with patients strictly professional. I had never crossed the line with my colleagues either. We had fought about it before. "You lie there like a dead fish when you're with me. Did some other guy feed you well at the hospital?" "Are you sleeping with your patients? Or those male colleagues who kiss your ass every day?" "I must have been blind to marry you. You put a green hat on my head every single day!" Back then, I thought he was just frustrated with my career and talking nonsense because he was drunk. Now I realized those were his true thoughts. He had always looked down on me. Snowflakes drifted down, landing on my skin. The cold seeped straight into my chest. People on the street were rushing home to their families. But where could I go? It was time to end this."It's seven. Still not off shift?" His checking-in text arrived, right on cue. Ethan always kept a tight leash on me. He didn't have a shred of the "generosity" he bragged about in front of his friends. My fingers were stiff as I typed back: "Get dinner yourself. I'm not coming home tonight." Just as I was about to turn off my phone, it rang loudly. I stared at the screen, hesitating to pick up. I didn't know how to face Ethan. Part of me wanted to storm inside like a madwoman, scream at him, and slap him for humiliating me like that. But another part of me was terrified to face the truth. He knew exactly what my job was when we were dating. Why was it suddenly unacceptable after we got married? After fifty seconds, the ringing stopped. An apologetic text followed immediately. "Babe, you know I can't live without you. I'm just insecure. I get jealous whenever you look at another man." "Babe, you're so beautiful, and I'm always worried I'll lose you. Please don't be mad at me, okay?" "I bought your favorite strawberry cake." "If you love your job, I promise I won't complain about it ever again." We had history. We had real feelings. Maybe he just had a big mouth and liked to brag in front of his friends. Maybe he didn't mean any harm. Ethan was usually so good to me. Since we got married, I had never touched a single chore. When his mother and I couldn't get along, he packed her bags and sent her back to her hometown without hesitation. The sweet smell of roasted chestnuts drifted over with the winter wind. The street vendor smiled warmly at me. "Off work, Dr. Claire? Ethan told me you love these and asked me to save some for you. You two have been married for almost ten years, right? Your relationship is so beautiful." I forced a smile and took the warm paper bag. The hot chestnuts warmed my freezing hands. A neighbor from upstairs chimed in, "We're all so jealous of you, Claire. My husband won't even lift a finger to help around the house. You're so blessed." "They say men change when they get rich, but look at Ethan. His business has grown so much, yet he still adores you. He comes straight home after work every day." ... I loved roasted chestnuts but hated peeling them. Ethan had always peeled them for me, one by one, feeding them to me patiently. Every marriage had its bumps. The most important thing was forgiveness, right? I carried the bag of chestnuts and walked back upstairs. The sweet aroma of home-cooked food filled the air. Ethan bustled around, serving me rice and peeling shrimp for me. The questions I wanted to ask hovered at the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them down. "Did you order takeout today? The taste is a bit different." Actually, I couldn't really tell. I just felt that it was impossible for Ethan to clean up a messy drinking table, sweep the house, and cook a three-course meal in such a short time. Ethan casually ate a piece of broccoli. "Too much salt." "It's snowing heavily outside. Even if I wanted takeout, I wouldn't make the delivery guy suffer in this weather." After dinner, Ethan placed the peeled chestnuts, sliced fruit, and the strawberry cake neatly in front of me. "Eat up, babe. I'm going downstairs to take out the trash." Ethan had a habit of throwing out all the trash right after dinner. "It's freezing outside. The trash won't smell overnight. Just do it tomorrow." He smiled, kissing my forehead. "It's fine. I'll be right back." "Hey, wait." It was snowing heavily, and Ethan had rushed out without his coat, scarf, or gloves. I grabbed his winter gear from the rack and ran out after him. But the scene in the hallway froze me in my tracks. Ethan's tall frame was wrapped around a petite woman. He was holding her tightly, kissing her passionately. At the sound of my footsteps, they broke apart instantly. A string of saliva snapped between their lips in the cold air. I took a step back in shock. My stomach churned, and I had to lean against the doorframe to keep from vomiting. Ethan rushed over, rubbing my back with mock concern. "Claire! What's wrong? Did you eat something bad?" I pushed his hands away with pure disgust. "Don't touch me. You make me sick." Ethan grabbed my wrist, his grip tightening. "I make you sick? Look at your own hands, Claire. Compared to what you do at work, I'm the faithful one here." Faithful? Sure, if cheating with only one person counted as faithful. "Claire, please don't say that," the woman chimed in, her voice dripping with innocence. "Ethan is so good to you. Every day, he begs me to cook the dishes you like." "Shut up!" I snapped. I stared at Ethan. "Since when did you get a sister? The food I've been eating... was made by her?"I couldn't hold it in anymore. I gagged and threw up. The sour smell of digested food filled the hallway. Ethan handed me a cup of water, looking worried. "Did you really get food poisoning? Rinse your mouth first." I looked up at the man standing in front of me. Ethan had been handsome since his college days. He was charming and knew exactly what to say. Many girls had chased him, and I wasn't the prettiest or the most popular. Due to my quiet nature, I had always been the one silently following him, loving him from a distance. Back then, I was young and naive. I thought loving him was my own business. It had nothing to do with him. I didn't know when he started noticing me. He would take the water bottles I bought him at the basketball court. He always chose the seat right behind me in lectures. That kind of subtle, unspoken love was beautiful. After graduation, he confessed to me. But we ended up going to different graduate schools. During those five years of long-distance relationship, our train tickets filled a shoe box. Neither time nor distance could tear us apart. Yet today, our love was crushed by the reality of our domestic life. Seeing my pale face, Ethan knelt down beside me, explaining desperately, "Babe, please don't be mad. I did it for your own good. I wanted you to eat healthy." "Your hands are meant for holding surgical scalpels. How could I let you ruin them in the kitchen? Besides, you and my mother never got along. I married you to cherish you, not to make you suffer. And you know I'm a terrible cook." "Chloe is an amazing cook, and she lives alone. I just paid her a monthly fee to prepare meals for us so you could eat healthy. I didn't mean to keep it a secret. I was just afraid you'd misunderstand." I almost wanted to applaud him. Every single word was wrapped in fake consideration for me. "You cooked together, and eventually, you cooked up some feelings, right? Now you're not just sharing meals. You're sharing your body." The way they were devouring each other's mouths just seconds ago—I wasn't blind. I would never forget it. "Claire, please don't misunderstand," Chloe said quickly. "The hallway light was flickering, and it was dark. Ethan got the wrong person." "It's my fault. I haven't introduced myself. My name is Chloe. I live right across from you." I slapped Ethan across the face. "You really think I'm an idiot? Don't dip your pen in the company ink, Ethan, but you literally cheated right on your own doorstep! The light was broken? He got the wrong person? Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" Ethan raised his hand, and I flinched out of instinct. "Babe, don't be scared," he said, his voice cracking. "I promised I would never hit you, and I meant it. I was possessed by the devil. You can beat me to death if it makes you feel better. Just please don't cry. It breaks my heart." I touched my face. Only then did I realize I was crying. With a loud thud, Ethan fell to his knees. He slapped his own face hard. "Babe, I was wrong. Please forgive me. I'll change. We can move. I promise I will never see her again." Hearing this, Chloe lost her composure. Forgetting her "innocent neighbor" act, she knelt beside Ethan, wrapping her arms around him and crying, "Ethan! You can't abandon me!" She looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with pure hatred and malice. "Claire, stop acting so holy! We both know what kind of woman you are. I bet you still smell like the men you examine at the hospital!" Ethan pushed her away violently, roaring, "Shut up!" Suddenly, the door across the hall opened. A three-year-old boy toddled out. He threw himself onto Chloe, crying loudly, "Mommy! Daddy is hitting Mommy! Bad Daddy!"Daddy? Mommy? They had a three-year-old son? "Let's get a divorce." When I said those words, I felt incredibly calm. Before this, I had foolishly hoped that Ethan was just insecure about my career, but that he still loved me. Even though his words had crushed my spirit, I had only planned to use my transfer to give us some space to breathe. Ignoring his desperate pleas, I slammed the door shut and locked it. Let it snow. He wouldn't freeze to death. He had a warm bed right across the hall. The apartment was deathly quiet. I could hear my own rapid heartbeat. It was beating so fast that I had to crouch down and press my hand against my chest to dull the agonizing pain. The chestnuts on the table looked like a monument to my stupidity. I couldn't help but wonder: did Ethan ever actually love me? My eyes burned. They were probably swollen already. Suddenly, the smart TV in the living room flickered on. It was a video casting from a phone—undoubtedly Chloe's doing. Under a dim, warm light, two bodies were tangled together on a bed, gasping. The woman panted, "Ethan... who do you love more? Me or Claire?" The man groaned, "You, of course, you little witch. You're my baby. You belong only to me." The woman giggled, "I'm yours. All yours. Inside and out." The scene shifted. Under the same dim light, the woman was heavily pregnant, resting her head on the headboard. She took the man's hand and placed it on her belly. "Look, the baby is kicking." A second later, tears rolled down her cheeks like pearls. "Are you really going to make me give our baby to her? I know I shouldn't ask for more. You only came to me for a child. But I've carried him for ten months. I watched him grow inside me. I can't let him go." The man comforted her gently, "It's not like you'll never see him. Don't worry. Claire is soft-hearted. She'll treat the boy like her own." The woman sobbed hysterically. "If you love her so much, why didn't you let her carry your child? Why did you have to ruin me?" "If she got pregnant, how would I know if the kid was actually mine? I've been using birth control for years because I refuse to raise another man's bastard. I love her, and I can tolerate her dirty job, but I draw the line at raising a kid of questionable blood." "Besides, I didn't want her to suffer through ten months of pregnancy." ... I grabbed a heavy ceramic vase from the table and smashed it into the TV screen. The screen shattered with a loud pop. Shards of glass, cream from the cake, and chestnuts scattered across the messy living room. It was all a lie. Ethan had always claimed that his mother and I couldn't get along. But he forgot that during the first two years of our marriage, my mother-in-law and I were very close. We went shopping and had lunch together all the time. In the third year, when I still wasn't pregnant, his mother got desperate for a grandchild. She constantly brewed herbal fertility soups for me and brought up children in every conversation. I felt suffocated during that time. I remembered Ethan holding me in his arms, whispering, "Mom is old-school. Don't listen to her. We don't need to rush. When the time is right, it will happen. I'll send her back to the countryside tomorrow. It'll just be the two of us." I had felt so lucky to have a husband who could handle his mother so perfectly. Years passed, and my belly remained flat. The rumors grew louder. People always assumed it was the woman's fault when a couple couldn't conceive. I heard so much gossip that I started doubting myself. I dragged Ethan to the hospital for tests. I drank endless cups of bitter Chinese medicine. We tried IVF. But it failed. I still remembered the agonizing cycle of hope and despair every time I lay on the cold operating table. Eventually, Ethan stopped me. "No more, babe. We'll just live like this. If you really want a kid, we can adopt. Blood doesn't matter." What a saint.The loud pops of New Year's Eve fireworks woke me up. The heater had turned off at some point, and my head felt like it was filled with lead. I felt freezing cold, but when I touched my forehead, it was burning hot. I had a fever. The hallway was quiet. Ethan's scarf and hat were tangled in a heap on the floor. One of his gloves lay lonely near the door. He hadn't come back. I let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. Even now, was I still holding onto some pathetic shred of hope? It was past midnight. It was officially New Year's Day. Just six more days until my transfer. Dragging my heavy limbs, I boiled some water to take some fever medicine. But I couldn't find the first-aid kit anywhere. As a doctor, I kept a well-stocked kit, and Ethan had always been very attentive about it. "You work too hard, Claire. You never take care of yourself. If you don't worry about your body, I will. I put two first-aid kits in the house. Common cold meds, fever reducers—everything is in there. I don't want you working at the hospital all day just to end up as a patient." Ethan had told me the first-aid kit was right in the cabinet by the entrance, where I could see it the moment I opened the door. "But it's okay if you forget. You have me. I will never let you suffer alone when you're sick." I pulled the cabinet doors open violently, throwing aside the junk. But it wasn't there. The high fever scrambled my brain. I forgot I could just order delivery on my phone. I was stubbornly obsessed with finding that missing kit. Not in the living room. Not in the kitchen. Not in the bedroom. Where was it? How could it just vanish? My eyes ached, and I wanted to cry, but not a single tear would come. My hands shook uncontrollably. Right. The study. There must be one in the study. As soon as I walked into the study, I heard faint whispering. It sounded like it was coming from the other side of the wall. My fever-addled brain told me this was impossible. The study was a room Ethan had personally remodeled. He had used the highest-grade soundproofing materials. He used to brag that we could throw a wild party in here and the neighbors wouldn't hear a thing. I remembered how smug he looked back then. "We can play some spicy games in here, babe. I promise no one will hear you scream." Against the wall facing the door stood a massive, custom-built wooden bookshelf, packed with heavy books. I had once teased him about buying books just for show. But as I stepped closer, the voices became clearer. "Ethan, are you sure you don't want to go back? Claire looked furious. Maybe you should check on her." "It's fine. Claire is easy to handle. Leo has a fever, and I can't leave him like this." I held my breath and pushed the heavy wooden bookshelf. It swung open easily. The wall behind it was gone. In its place was a hidden, carpeted doorway leading into the apartment across the hall. Their home was beautifully decorated, warm and cozy. Every sharp corner of the furniture was wrapped in baby-proof foam. On the dining table stood a framed family portrait. A handsome father, a gentle mother, and a happy little boy. What a perfect, cozy little family. And everywhere I looked, there were signs of Ethan's daily life. His favorite mug, his preferred tea leaves, his casual jacket thrown over the chair. So this was what lay on the other side of the wall.The missing first-aid kits were sitting right there on their dining table. Both of them. I clamped my hand over my mouth to choke back a scream. Should I storm in and demand to know why he did this to me? Should I curse him for leading a double life and having a secret child? What was the point? The damage was done. Even if he knelt before me again, what would it change? Some things, once broken, could never be mended. Like spilled water, you could never gather it back. I used to think people who cried over a broken heart were just being dramatic. Now I realized that when your heart truly breaks, the physical pain really feels like a thousand knives cutting through your flesh. I didn't make a sound. I stumbled back into my own cold apartment and locked the hidden door. I wrapped myself tightly in the blanket, trying to extract some warmth from the cotton. Just sleep. Once I fall asleep, the pain will fade. Tomorrow is a new day, and everything will pass. I let myself sink into the dark, suffocating abyss of sleep. "You wicked woman! My son must have cursed his ancestors to end up with a wife like you! All you do is sleep! Get up right now! We are going to the courthouse for a divorce!" The blanket was violently ripped off me and thrown onto the floor. I opened my eyes to see my mother-in-law, Helen, glaring down at me with pure venom. She grabbed my arm, dragging me off the bed. "How can you be so heartless? Leo is only three years old! You hated having me around, so you turned my own son against me and had me kicked out. I swallowed my pride for that! You couldn't even breed, and my son refused to divorce you because he loved you. I swallowed that too! Thank God another woman was able to give him a son. But you? You're pure evil! You want to end the family line!" Her spit flew onto my face. I stared at her, completely dazed by the fever and her sudden assault. Ethan rushed in, pulling her back. "Mom! What are you doing? Leo just has a mild cold and a slight fever. It's not that serious! Besides, this has nothing to do with Claire!" My skin felt sticky and uncomfortable, but the sweat had broken my fever, and my head felt clearer. I looked at Helen. "So you knew about the boy all along." I was the only fool kept in the dark. For three whole years, I had noticed absolutely nothing. "Divorce," I said quietly, looking at them. "I agree." Ethan stared at me in disbelief. "I don't!" "Claire, I know it was wrong of me to have another woman carry my child. But you are the only one in my heart. That has never changed. I will never agree to a divorce." How could a human heart be so compartmentalized? How could he claim to love me while sleeping with another woman in the very next room? Or perhaps he was just delusional. Perhaps love had never existed in the first place. I chose to ignore his pathetic plea. "Get out. All of you. This is my apartment. If you want to scream, do it in your own home." Chloe, with dark circles under her eyes, stepped forward and held Helen's hand. "Helen, please don't blame Claire. Leo's sickness has nothing to do with her. It's my fault. His immune system is weak, and I shouldn't have let him play in the cold wind." Helen patted her hand gently. "How could I blame you, sweetie? You've suffered so much raising the boy all by yourself. If anyone is to blame, it's that cold-hearted, selfish woman who does nothing but cause drama." Listening to their little performance, I finally understood. So they were blaming me for the boy's fever? Because I had caused a scene last night and kept Ethan away? I sat on the bed. Ethan sat cautiously beside me, while the old woman and the young mistress stood at the door, looking as close as mother and daughter. They had drawn their battle lines. I was the outsider in my own home. But it didn't matter. I was leaving soon."Claire, if you don't like them, I'll have them move out this afternoon. We can go back to how things used to be." Ethan spoke with such raw sincerity. Hearing this, Chloe took a sharp step forward, biting her lip, but she didn't dare say a word. I let out a cold laugh. He really knew how to manage his harem. Did he think we were still living in the 1950s? Did he honestly believe he could keep a wife and a mistress under the same roof? I wondered if he knew that Chloe wasn't as helpless and innocent as she pretended to be. The suddenly casted video, the heartbreaking footage, the sudden appearance of the child, the unlocked hidden door, and that perfectly timed conversation... She played her hand beautifully. "I'm tired," I said. Truly, utterly exhausted. Ethan leaned down, trying to kiss my forehead, but I flinched away. His touch, which used to bring me comfort, now made my skin crawl with disgust. Ethan smiled helplessly. "Rest up, babe. I'm going to set up the dinner party for tonight. I'm hosting Marcus and the guys. Don't worry, I'll handle everything. Since you don't like Chloe, she will never appear in front of you again." He really believed I was that easily pacified. I took some medicine and fell back asleep. When I woke up again, it was to the sound of Marcus's loud voice in the living room. "Ethan, you dog! You pulled this off and Claire still won't divorce you? Why don't you invite the little wife over for a drink too?" Ethan hissed, "Keep it down. Claire isn't feeling well. We've been together since high school. She's completely dependent on me. She loves me too much to leave." The guys roared with laughter. "Man, I'm so jealous." Marcus piped up, "Hey Ethan, you promised last time that you'd have Claire check out my prostate. You backtracked at the last second. That's not cool. No time like the present, let's do it today!" Ethan laughed. "Sure, sure. I'll make it happen." I sat frozen on the bedroom floor, unable to believe what I was hearing. They all knew about Chloe. No wonder they treated me with such casual disrespect. They were Ethan's friends. He never respected me, so why would they? A marriage certificate meant nothing to them. I was just a joke to his circle. To Ethan, it wasn't about locker-room talk or male ego. Deep down, he truly believed I was cheap because of my job. He thought I was dirty. "Claire, Marcus and the guys are here. Put something on and come out," Ethan called out. The home I had decorated with so much love suddenly felt like a house of horrors. I grabbed a random coat, wrapped it around myself, and ran out, slamming the door behind me. Behind me, I could hear them whispering. "What's wrong with Claire?" "Oh, just throwing a tantrum. I'll sweet-talk her later. She can't live without me anyway. Who else would want a woman who looks at men's junk all day?" Ethan's voice was full of absolute certainty. It was New Year's Eve, a night for family reunions, but I had nowhere to go. This massive city felt like it had no place for me. The shops near the apartment complex were all closed. Perhaps it was for the best. At least no one I knew would see me wandering the streets like a ghost. My phone buzzed repeatedly in my pocket. The community group chat was flooded with holiday greetings. Suddenly, a photo was posted. Chloe, wearing a beautiful red dress, was sitting next to Ethan. Little Leo sat between them, looking adorable. They were surrounded by Ethan's friends at the dining table, everyone smiling happily. [A neighbor replied: "Chloe's husband finally showed his face! What a beautiful, happy family!"] [Another added: "So perfect together!"] Chloe generously sent an eighty-dollar red envelope in the chat, thanking everyone for their blessings. The words "beautiful family" and "so perfect" flooded the screen. Even though the neighbors had mistaken Ethan for her husband, they did look happy. None of the neighbors who had praised Ethan for being a "perfect husband" to me even realized I was missing. The wind felt colder."Dad, Mom, Happy New Year. I hope you both stay healthy and live a long, happy life." "Claire? Are you outside? I hear traffic." My mother was as sharp as ever. "Ethan posted some party photos on his feed, but you weren't in any of them. Did you two get into a fight?" I covered the microphone, blinking back tears, and forced a cheerful tone. "Of course not. I just didn't want to be in the photo. We're doing great. We'll come visit you on January 2nd." "Claire, sweetie, are you sick? Your voice sounds stuffed up. If you two had a fight, it's okay. Don't bottle it up. Where are you? Your father can drive over and pick you up right now." Tears and mucus covered my face, but I kept my voice steady. "I'm fine, Mom. Just a little cold. The apartment is full of guys smoking and drinking, and I couldn't stand the smell, so I stepped out for some fresh air. I'll head back in a bit. Don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine." My father took the phone, his voice laced with concern. "Did Helen nag you again? Don't listen to her. Having children is a matter of fate. If she has a problem, tell her to call me. I'll set her straight." I was loved. No matter what happened, no matter how old I got, my parents' love for me would never change. They had never told me to just "endure" a bad marriage. And because they loved me so much, I couldn't bear to ruin their holidays. Their health wasn't great, and the last thing I wanted was for Ethan and his mother to cause a scene at their house. Once the holidays were over, I would leave this city. This marriage would be done. Soon. I refused to go back to that apartment. I contacted a lawyer friend and got a divorce agreement drawn up. I stayed in a hotel for the next two days, completely ignoring Ethan's calls and texts. On January 2nd, I finally called Ethan. "My parents don't know about your illegitimate child. Don't let it slip," I warned him coldly before we entered my parents' house. I forced a bright, loving smile as we walked through the door. "You've lost weight, sweetie." The moment my parents saw me, they started piling food onto my plate, just like they did when I was a kid. Ethan lowered his head, looking ashamed. "Mom, Dad, it's my fault. I haven't been taking good care of Claire. I promise to work on my cooking after the holidays." I did my best to maintain the illusion of a happy marriage. No matter how much Ethan disgusted me, I swallowed the food he placed in my bowl. But the peaceful atmosphere was shattered by an unexpected phone call. My phone rang. It was Chloe. She was sobbing hysterically. "Claire! I can't reach Ethan. Can you please let him take the phone?" My parents looked confused. "Who is that? Is there an emergency?" I hung up immediately. "Just a telemarketer." But a tiny knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. What if something actually happened to the boy? I quickly reasoned with myself. Helen was there. Chloe was a grown woman. If it were a real emergency, she wouldn't be calling my phone. She was probably just playing another one of her games. After dinner, my mother and I were washing dishes in the kitchen while my father played chess with Ethan in the living room. Suddenly, someone started pounding violently on the front door. I didn't even dry the soap off my hands before rushing to open it. The moment the door opened, Chloe lunged forward and slapped me across the face. "I know it was my fault for coming between you and Ethan! But Leo is innocent! How can you be so heartless? He is only three years old!" Hearing the commotion, Ethan rushed over. The moment he heard his son was in danger, he pushed me aside and pulled Chloe into his arms. "Don't cry, sweetie. What happened to Leo? Tell me slowly." Chloe collapsed to the floor, sobbing. "It's all my fault. I shouldn't have taken him to the playground. He kept asking where his daddy was... you promised to play with him... I felt bad, so I took him out." "He fell and cut his head open. There was so much blood! I tried calling you, but I couldn't get through. I called Claire and begged her to let you come home, but she hung up on me! Do you really not want us anymore?" "Ethan, I promise we will disappear from your life forever. Just please save Leo! He is my only son!" Ethan scooped her up in his arms. "Leo is my son too! How could I ignore him?" I wanted to stop them from making a scene in my parents' home, but they rushed out before I could even speak. The ugly truth was laid bare in the most brutal way possible. Behind me, my father's panicked voice rang out. "Martha! Martha, look at me! Don't scare me! Claire, call 911!"I spun around. My mother was lying on the floor, gasping for air, clutching her chest. She had chronic high blood pressure and a weak heart. The shock was too much for her. Our house was far from the nearest hospital. Fearing the ambulance wouldn't arrive in time, I grabbed Ethan's arm, begging him, "Take my mother to the hospital first!" Even though Chloe's sudden appearance had caught me off guard, my mind was sharp. I knew that if Chloe had the time to track down my parents' address and drive all the way here, Leo's injury couldn't be life-threatening. But my mother truly could not wait. Ethan gave me a cold, unreadable look, then stepped back, pulling his arm from my grip. "I have to see Leo. Call an ambulance." This was the first time in our ten years together that he hadn't put me first. He had always been incredibly respectful and caring toward my parents, sometimes even more than toward his own mother. I never imagined he could look at their life-and-death crisis with such cold indifference. "We can take them both!" I pleaded. The hospital was on the way. There were plenty of seats in his car. "Ethan," Chloe whimpered, tugging at his sleeve. "Leo and Helen are waiting downstairs. His head is bandaged, but he won't stop crying for his daddy. He's so small..." Chloe looked at me, a triumphant smirk flashing across her face. She was entirely confident that Ethan would choose her. And why wouldn't he? They had lived as a secret family for years, and they shared a child. I was nothing compared to that bond. Ethan couldn't even look me in the eye. He lowered his head and rushed out with Chloe. Three minutes passed. I didn't have time to grieve. I ran next door and knocked on my neighbor's door, begging them to help me drive my parents to the hospital. Fortunately, my parents had great relationships with our neighbors. We made it to the hospital just in time, and the doctors stabilized my mother. But the left side of her body was paralyzed. Looking at my pale mother lying in the ICU, and my father clutching her hand, refusing to leave her side, I was consumed by guilt. It was my fault. All my fault. I should never have let Ethan come with me. I should have lied and made up an excuse. Even if my parents suspected something, they wouldn't have been blindsided and literally driven into a medical emergency by his mistress. It was the holiday season, and the neighborhood was packed. I couldn't even imagine the gossip that would spread. I didn't dare bring up Ethan's name. This was the man my parents had treated like a son for over a decade. His betrayal was sickening. People really do change. "What is going on, Claire?" my father asked quietly when we stepped out of the room. "I don't know the full story yet," I said, my voice steady and empty of emotion. "But Ethan has been cheating on me, and he has a three-year-old son. I'm divorcing him. My job transfer is already approved. I will handle this, Dad." My father looked at me, his eyes filled with gentle sorrow. "Divorce him, sweetie. And don't blame yourself for your mother's condition. The doctor said she'll recover with physical therapy. We got here in time." Even now, my father was trying to comfort me. The tears I had held back for days finally spilled over. I had been so terrified. I was so scared that my mother would die because of my messy life. "Claire! Is Mom okay? I brought some home-cooked pigeon soup for her." Ethan appeared at the end of the hallway, holding a bouquet of yellow roses in one hand and a fruit basket and thermos in the other. His worried expression looked incredibly genuine. It was as if he had completely forgotten what he did a few hours ago. He acted as though he hadn't abandoned my dying mother in her own living room. My father gave him a cold look and walked straight back into the ICU, shutting the door. Ethan, seemingly immune to our hatred, stepped closer to me. "Claire, babe, I bought your favorite yellow roses. Please forgive me." I couldn't maintain my composure anymore. "Forgive you? How can you say that so easily? That is my mother! She almost died because of you!" I could forgive a lot of things. I could handle the cheating; after all, love fades, and when it's gone, it's gone. I could accept that we weren't meant to grow old together, and I was willing to walk away quietly. I could even ignore his locker-room talk with his friends. They were nothing to me. I could even ignore Chloe's petty provocations. None of her little stunts had caused me real physical harm. She loved Ethan and wanted him to herself, so she targeted me. I understood the dirty game of a homewrecker. But my parents were my red line."Since you're here, it saves me a trip," I said, pulling a document from my bag. "Sign it. I've already signed. I'm taking my personal belongings, and I don't want a dime of your assets. Let's just end this cleanly." I had been carrying the signed divorce papers with me. Ethan's face turned pale. It was as if he only now realized that I was entirely serious about leaving him. In the past, during our rare fights, I had brought up divorce in the heat of the moment, but he had always managed to sweet-talk me out of it. Over time, he had convinced himself that I could never actually leave him. But in this world, no one is indispensable. "Claire, I was wrong. I made a terrible mistake. We've been together for so long. Please give me one last chance. I really do love you." I let out a weary laugh. "I'm so sick of hearing 'I love you.' Do you think that if you say it enough times, it magically becomes true? Real love isn't something you just talk about." "Even if you do love me, I don't want a love like yours. It's disgusting." He stubbornly believed I was just throwing a tantrum and kept repeating his pathetic apologies. "Claire, I promise I've sent them away. If you don't want to live in that apartment, we can buy a new house. We can even have your parents move in with us." "I'll hire the best doctors for them." I gave him a lifeless smile. "Whatever you say, Ethan." I tossed his yellow roses into the trash can next to us. The first time he ever bought me flowers—when he proposed to me—it was a bouquet of yellow roses. I guess this was a fitting end. I immediately arranged for my mother to be transferred to a hospital in the city where my new job was located. I packed up my parents and left the city for good. It didn't matter if Ethan signed the papers or not. Once we lived apart for two years, the court would grant the divorce automatically. As the scenery blurred past the train window, my heart felt completely numb. The agonizing heartbreak I felt before now seemed like a distant, silly dream. My past life of putting up with his disrespect felt like a different lifetime. My father gently patted my hand, and I smiled back at him. My mother was sleeping peacefully in her medical transport. The stress that had lined her face for days had finally softened. This was good. We were starting over. My phone chimed with a text. My former colleague: [Dr. Claire, did you not tell your husband you quit? He came to the hospital looking for you like a madman. Don't worry, I didn't tell him a thing.] My lawyer, Rachel: [I sent the divorce papers and asset division proposal to Ethan. He refused to sign and screamed at me, calling me a vulture trying to ruin his family. You owe me a very expensive dinner, Claire.] I smiled and replied: [Thank you, Rachel. Dinner is on me.] Just before I blocked Ethan's number, I received one last call from Chloe. She hissed into the receiver, "Don't get too smug, Claire. Even if Ethan sent me away, Leo is still here. He carries Ethan's blood, and that is a bond you can never break." "Do you really think he loves you? You saw those videos, didn't you? I have dozens more. He told me he loves me every single night." "I'm younger than you, and I'm prettier. Just you wait, I will get him back." She was just a delusional woman who couldn't see reality. Compared to her, I was incredibly lucky to have escaped. Ethan was the kind of man who always left himself a back door. He never committed fully to anyone. "I hope you get exactly what you want," I said softly. I sincerely hoped she and Ethan would stay locked together forever so they wouldn't ruin anyone else's life. Letting go wasn't as hard as I thought. I could genuinely wish them a miserable eternity together. I hung up, blocked Chloe, Ethan, and Helen, pulled out my SIM card, and snapped it in half. My past was officially dead.