Chapter 5

No matter what Ethan sent me next, I firmly refused to reply.

Of course, I didn't go to drop the case.

But the next morning, a call woke me up.

Through the receiver, Scarlett's voice was triumphant, almost floating.

"Chloe, so what if you called the police? Ethan still couldn't bear to see me suffer!"

"He contacted his dad last night and bailed me out."

I instantly sobered up.

Ethan and his estranged father, who had abandoned his family, hadn't spoken in over a decade. It was the deepest scar on his heart.

Now, for Scarlett, for a mere 48-hour detention, he had humbled himself to beg that man.

Seeing my silence, her laughter grew even more jarring.

"Doesn't that count as Ethan publicly slapping you in the face?"

"So what if you're his girlfriend? His first choice, the one he loves, will always be me."

I hung up the phone, and the screen lit up.

It was a screenshot of Scarlett's Ins story.

That private list, visible only to three people, was once filled with her presence.

When he was with her, he updated it daily.

Sweet moments, arguments, making up—all updated.

But for me, he had never officially announced my existence, saying only that showing affection on social media was childish.

For every one of their anniversaries, he would meticulously prepare surprises.

Because he was afraid "my little princess wouldn't be happy, and would cause a scene again."

Yet for our three anniversaries, he was absent due to Scarlett's various dramas.

I once tried acting out like Scarlett.

He frowned impatiently: "Chloe, I broke up with her precisely because I was tired of her capriciousness. Are you going to be like that too?"

I loved him too much, so I could only swallow my grievances and back down.

At noon, the lock turned.

Ethan came in, carrying a large bouquet of champagne roses. Seeing the unpacked suitcase in the hallway, he smiled helplessly.

"Baby, yesterday was my fault. I spoke out of turn."

He walked closer to me, his tone indulgent as he explained.

"I didn't mean to favor her. You know her personality; I was worried she'd keep causing trouble if you hit her back."

"You're usually so gentle, you'd get the short end of the stick in a fight."

I looked at him, feeling both absurd and amused.

My 6'1", eight-pack-abs boyfriend was right there.

But I still took a slap for nothing, didn't I?

"So, you sought out the person you despise the most, to bail her out?"

At the mention of that man, Ethan's expression hardened.

"If you hadn't insisted on making such a big deal out of it, would I have gone to beg him?"

"Scarlett's mom and my mom are best friends, we grew up together. Now my girlfriend put her in a police station, how are our families going to interact in the future? What will my mom think of you?!"

"I used to think you were sensible, but this time, you just acted so recklessly."

He kept talking.

"Chloe, does it make sense for you to always be jealous because of her? That's just her personality, you know I've blocked her, what else can I do?"

Listening to his string of accusations, my heart grew colder.

Yes, he had blocked all her contact information.

But he never missed a call from those unknown numbers.

"You should go."

I heard myself say.

"I agree to break up."

"I already said I was impulsive and spoke wrong. Can't you just let it go?"

He tugged irritably at his collar.

"Chloe, I've told you many times, I will never get back with Scarlett. Her temper is too fiery, we simply can't make it work."

Saying this, he took a velvet box from his pocket and opened it.

Inside was the diamond ring we had custom-made together.

"Once we're married, she'll finally give up and stop bothering us."

"From the day I started dating you three years ago, I knew you were the perfect wife for me."

I looked at the diamond ring I had dreamed of so many times.

Now, the light it reflected was no longer dazzling, only blinding.

He said so many words about "suitable," "wife," and "stability," but he never once mentioned love.

The refusal was on my lips when my phone rang at an inconvenient moment.

It was my mom.

Her voice was excited and relieved.

"Ethan just brought so many gifts to the house, and he and your dad set the engagement date. This weekend sounds good."

I was stunned, instinctively refusing: "Mom, I don't want to, it's too rushed…"

"You child, you've been together for three years, it's time to move forward. What more could you want from a good man like him?"

Mom's rambling faded as she hung up.

Ethan hugged me from behind, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"Your mom is very happy about our engagement."

His voice was coaxing: "She just slapped you, right? I'll let you hit me back for her, as much as you want, okay?"

"Let's not quarrel over such a small thing."

I remembered my mom, just a while ago, wiping away tears and holding my hand when she found out she needed heart surgery:

"Mom's biggest worry is that no one will take care of you."

I stood there blankly, letting him slide the ring onto my ring finger.

Like a beautiful set of shackles.