Chapter 2

That night, Ethan claimed he had to work late again and didn't stroll through the door until after nine.

He headed straight for the bathroom and took a forty-minute shower.

Normally, his showers took fifteen minutes tops.

When he finally emerged, a cloud of cologne followed him into the room.

Since when did late-night office overtime require fresh cologne?

I didn't call him out. I simply asked, "Hungry? I heated up some soup for you."

"Not hungry, already grabbed a bite," he muttered, collapsing onto the bed to scroll through his feed. Before long, his eyes shut and he drifted off.

His phone was still resting loosely in his palm.

I slipped it out from his fingers. The screen wasn't even locked.

I opened SnapChat, and the chat with "Baby" was right at the top.

The latest message was from him: "Tried on my suit today. Looks amazing, doesn't it? I'll wear it for you the day of the party."

She had replied: "Isn't she standing right there? You dare text me in front of her?"

"She went to the bathroom."

"Snap me a mirror pic of the suit, then."

And he actually had.

A mirror selfie taken right inside the fitting room.

Beneath the photo, he added: "Let me wrap up this engagement party, and I'll handle her. Don't stress, just secure your room at the maternity care retreat first."

"What about the house? Are you sure she won't keep it?"

"She loves me blindly. She believes whatever I tell her. Don't worry, the house will be ours."

Reading the screen, my hands didn't shake.

Not even a tremor.

Honestly, I almost laughed.

Three years.

I had given him three years of my life.

I stood by him as he climbed from an entry-level desk jockey to department manager. I covered half the rent, took care of most of the chores, packed him meals during late nights, and picked him up whenever he got drunk at corporate dinners.

And in the end, I was just a nuisance to be "handled."

And he expected to walk away with my condo, too.

I recorded a video of the screen, snapped several photos with my own phone, and slipped his device back into his hand.

I lay down and stared up at the ceiling.

Sleep wouldn't come.

Beside me, Ethan was snoring lightly, sleeping like a baby.

The next morning, I went to work as if nothing was wrong.

Everyone in the office knew about my upcoming engagement, and several coworkers stopped by to offer congratulations.

I smiled, thanked them, and kept refining my plan.

A month ago, Ethan told me his department was rushing a critical project and he'd be slammed.

I had believed him.

Looking back, he was just busy catering to his pregnant sidepiece.

Oh, right. Pregnant.

Vanessa was pregnant and already placing deposits at a maternity center.

Ethan was going to be a father.

Just not with me.

Over our three years together, he always insisted, "My career isn't stable yet. Let's wait on having kids."

I agreed, telling him we could wait until he felt ready.

Turns out, he had no problem getting someone else pregnant in the meantime.

Unstable career?

The very "career" he boasted about was practically built on my back.

Last year, when he competed for the director role, I stayed up for three consecutive nights rewriting his promotion presentation.

The day he stepped on stage, I had memorized his script better than he had.

When he landed the role, he treated his team to drinks.

That night, stumbling home drunk, he wrapped his arms around me and slurred, "Babe, what would I ever do without you?"

Back then, I thought it was sweet.

Now I realized how accurate it was.

Without me, he truly was a nobody.

Yet with me, he took everything for granted.