Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English
Synopsis
After my first love passed away from an illness, my life spiraled. I hit rock bottom and broke down multiple times.
Then I met Dr. Ethan Vance, a psychiatrist who looked eighty percent like him.
With gentle care and endless patience, Ethan pulled me out of the dark.
I truly believed we would grow old together.
Until the car crash happened.
His first instinct was to throw his arms around his young, secret lover, shielding her with everything he had.
He didn't even care that the shattered glass ripped a massive, bloody gash right across his face.
In that exact second, I let go.
The face. The love. I didn't want any of it anymore.
"I never got around to telling you," I smirked, looking at the girl. "Your boyfriend is actually my husband."
"Well, my ex-husband now."
And just like that, Ethan was the one who broke.
"Do men honestly care if their wives were virgins before them?"
I was mindlessly scrolling through my feed when this trending post popped up.
Usually, I'd scroll right past.
But a strange gut feeling made me tap on it. I read through the comments one by one.
"Let me put it this way. When I met my wife, I thought I didn't care at all. But three years into marriage, with a little fresh excitement in the picture, I realized how much it actually matters."
"The thought of her doing those things with another guy makes me instinctively sick. Truth hurts, but men and women are just built different. Pure girls are real women. The rest? No better than streetwalkers used by a thousand guys."
My fingers trembled. I clicked into the user’s profile.
The location, the username, and the few familiar landscape photos on his page were unmistakable.
It was him.
"Whatcha looking at? You're so spaced out."
A large, warm hand rested on the top of my head, followed by a tender kiss on the corner of my lips.
The man who wrote those vile words had arrived.
I locked my screen, leaning against Ethan's chest as if nothing happened. "Nothing. Just random scrolling."
To keep him from asking more, I changed the subject. "Babe, our anniversary is next week. How do you want to celebrate?"
Ethan stiffened.
That was his tell. Whenever he felt guilty, he froze.
"Next week... I'm so sorry, sweetie. A client wants me out of town for a conference, so I won't be able to stay."
He rubbed his cheek against mine, overcompensating. "Weren't you eyeing that designer bag? I'll pick it up for you on my way back, okay?"
I stared at him, almost trying to burn a hole through his skull.
Ethan, you're lying.
That's fine. I'm lying too.
Because our anniversary isn't next week at all.
I forced a sweet smile, but tears still pricked the corners of my eyes.
The man who once swore to love me forever was gone.
When I first met Ethan, I was at the absolute lowest point of my life.
My college sweetheart had just died of terminal cancer. As an orphan who grew up desperately craving love and emotional security, losing him was a lethal blow.
I had clung to his lifeless body at the hospital, sobbing so hard that I caught the attention of Ethan, who was coming off his shift in the psychiatric ward next door.
The moment I saw him, I froze.
His facial features—especially his eyes and brows—were an uncanny eighty percent match to my first love. With a surgical mask on, he looked identical from a distance.
Ethan was gentle, caring, and professional. Step by step, he pulled me out of my severe depression.
A year after we became close, he stood before me with a bouquet of roses, his face blushing, and asked me out.
I was touched that he had witnessed my ugliest, most broken moments and still chose to save me.
I fell for his devotion and believed his vows.
The following year, we exchanged rings, promising to stay together through sickness and in health.
I often kissed his brows, but over time, it was out of genuine love for Ethan—not nostalgia for the past.
Yet now, I had just discovered his hidden resentment. And the undeniable truth that he was stepping out on me.
A lump formed in my throat.
He was alive and well, yet he chose to throw me away.
How was I supposed to survive the days ahead?
Still, I chose not to call him out. Not yet.The following week, when he allegedly left for his "business trip," I actually wrapped a gift for him.
Three years into marriage, with a little fresh excitement in the picture...
The comment replayed in my mind on an endless loop. I clenched the gift box tightly.
How far had they gone? Were they deeply in love, or was it just a flirtatious spark?
God, please, I prayed silently. Tell me this marriage can still be saved.
Lost in thought, I suddenly noticed a man on the sidewalk reaching out to grope a young woman's skirt.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" I shouted.
Both of them jumped and turned toward me.
I noticed the girl's eyes were rimmed with red, and she was subconsciously backing away from the creep.
They clearly weren't a couple.
"Mind your own damn business!" the man snapped. "What's wrong with getting handsy with my girlfriend? You jealous or something?"
Ignoring him, I looked at the girl. "Is he really your boyfriend? Don't be scared, I already called 911."
Of course, that was a bluff. I didn't want to waste emergency resources.
"He's not!" The girl burst into tears, finding courage, and dashed behind me. "He was following me closely the whole block... Thank you so much, ma'am. I'll talk to the cops when they get here."
"Bullshit! You were asking for it!" The creep lost it, shouting, "Wearing a skirt like that, who knows what you're begging for? Bet you were loving every second of it!"
I rolled my eyes, refusing to engage with his twisted logic.
"Do you want to save that garbage for the officers, or do you want to get lost right now?" I glared at him. "I took a video of you harassing her. Pretty sure your employer would love to see it."
"Fuck you!"
He panicked. "Whatever! My bad! Happy now? Total waste of time!"
He turned and sprinted away.
The girl kept bowing and thanking me, insisting on getting my number so she could treat me to dinner.
"I'm sorry, but my husband is waiting for me at home," I said, always hesitant to give my contact info to strangers. "It was nothing, really. If we're meant to run into each other again, you can buy me that dinner then, deal?"
She finally let it go.
When I got home, I waited for Ethan. Hours ticked by.
It was past midnight when he finally stumbled through the door, reeking of alcohol.
Seeing me on the couch, he flinched, looking panicked. "Why... why are you still awake?"
I didn't answer. My eyes locked onto the smear of pink lipstick on his crisp white collar.
"Who were you with tonight?"
A sharp pain tore through my chest. "Did you forget your promise last week? You said we'd have dinner together tonight. I called you ten times. You didn't pick up once. Ethan, do you even care about—"
"Let's get a divorce."
I froze. "What did you just say?"
"I said, I want a divorce."He stood up straight, his striking eyes cold and detached. "I know this sounds cruel, but I don't love you anymore. Let's make this clean. Don't make it ugly."
"Make it clean?"
I hurled the wrapped watch directly at his chest. "How can you say that with a straight face? Look at your shirt! Look at your neck! You went out, screwed around with some mistress, and you want a clean split? Do you have any shame left?"
"Chloe, back off!"
That struck a nerve. His chest heaved as he pointed an accusatory finger at me. "She's not a mistress! She is a thousand times better than you! At least she was untouched!"
"You slept with your ex before me, and now you have the nerve to yell at me? I'm telling you, we're getting divorced whether you like it or not!"
Hearing him say it out loud made the air freeze in my lungs. My blood ran cold.
"Ethan, are you serious right now? Did I ever hide my past from you? We were engaged! Of course we were intimate! Why should I feel ashamed of that? What did you tell me when you proposed? You swore you only loved me, that you didn't care about my past, only our future! And now you're using this pathetic excuse to justify your cheating? You disgust me!"
"Shut the hell up!"
Ethan yanked a folded document out of his briefcase and slapped it hard across my face. "I was an idiot to walk on eggshells trying not to trigger your fragile little feelings. You don't deserve an ounce of sympathy!"
He stormed toward the door. "Sign it and call me. Otherwise, don't ever contact me again!"
He slammed the door behind him, his parting shot echoing in the hallway: "Depressed people are just crazy freaks!"
My mind went blank. Every inch of my body throbbed with pain.
My heart ached the most.
Every sweet memory we shared had turned into a razor-sharp blade slicing through me.
I had foolishly believed Ethan would love me unconditionally, just like Caleb did.
I didn't realize that true, selfless love wasn't something everyone was capable of giving.
I fell severely ill and stayed bedridden for days.
During that time, only my mother-in-law called.
She clearly already knew about the split. Behind her fake concern was plain pressure for me to let go.
"Chloe, honey, I'm not taking Ethan's side, but you can't force a man to stay, right?"
Go to hell.
I hung up. With nothing in my stomach for days, a hollow ache gnawed at my gut.
No. I had to eat.
I hailed an Uber, completely blank about where to go.
"Driver, take me somewhere nice. Somewhere fancy."
"You got it, miss!"
Twenty minutes later, he dropped me off in front of a Michelin-starred steakhouse. The kind of place where a single entrée cost a week's groceries.
I smiled bitterly. Eating here would clean out my checking account.
"Oh my gosh, what a coincidence! Are you eating here too?"A cheerful voice called out behind me. I turned around, puzzled.
It was her! The girl I had helped on the street!
The next second, my eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Clinging tightly to her arm was none other than Ethan.
She beamed, enthusiastically pulling me into the restaurant lobby. "This is my fiancé! He proposed to me recently, so we came here to celebrate... Remember our deal? You promised to let me buy you dinner if we met again!"
She looked up at Ethan with an adorable, teasing pout. "Babe, this is the amazing woman who rescued me on the street the other day! I know tonight was supposed to be just the two of us, but can she join us?"
Ethan's face drained of all color, shifting from pale to green.
He never could have imagined, in a city of millions, that our paths would cross like this.
Cornered, he had no choice but to force out, "Sure."
The dining room was dimly lit and breathtakingly elegant. The food smelled divine.
Yet every bite tasted like ash.
I had asked Ethan to bring me here months ago.
He brushed it off back then, complaining it was ridiculously overpriced and promising we'd only go on a milestone anniversary.
Turns out, he was saving it for someone else.
Sensing the awkward tension, the girl tried to break the ice. "I haven't introduced myself properly yet! I'm Claire, and this is Ethan."
"Chloe," I said evenly.
"Did you come alone tonight, Chloe?" Claire asked casually. "I remember you said your husband was waiting for you last time. Where is he?"
"..."
Right across the table, sharing bread rolls with you.
Ethan began coughing violently, shooting frantic, pleading glares at me.
I found the whole scene pathetic. That was when my eyes fell on his wrist.
Claire noticed my gaze and giggled shyly. "They're matching couple watches! Pretty cute, right? If you like it, you should totally buy one for your husband!"
Ethan choked on his water, coughing even harder.
No wonder he didn't care about the watch I bought him. Someone else had already put a leash on his wrist.
"I'm full," I said, picking up my purse. "I should head out. Thanks for the meal, Claire."
"Wait! Let us give you a ride!" Claire insisted. "My dad drove us here in his SUV. It's totally on our way!"
I declined repeatedly, but her persistence won out.
"Alright. Thank you."
Ethan obviously couldn't let me be alone with her, so he rushed along behind us.
The atmosphere in the car was suffocatingly tense.
I took a deep breath.
"Claire, there's actually something I need to tell—"
"LOOK OUT OVER THERE!" Ethan yelled at the top of his lungs, his face flushed scarlet.
His sudden shout startled Claire's father, who slammed his foot on the brake—
The next second, blinding headlights barreled into my side of the car!
Brace!
In that split second, I instinctively looked at Ethan.
He threw his entire body over Claire, shielding her tightly in his arms. "Don't be scared, I've got you!"
The world flipped upside down. The violent momentum slammed my head violently against the side window.
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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