When Ethan slipped that pink diamond ring onto my finger, it was too small and got forcefully stuck at my knuckle. He just laughed carelessly. "Looks like Chloe's fingers are thinner after all. It fit her perfectly, dangling so cutely." He casually twisted the ring on my reddened finger. He told me that this custom engagement ring, originally meant for me, had been worn by his intern, flaunted all over her Instagram for an entire week. "The poor girl hasn't worked a hard day in her life, so her hands are soft. Her knuckles aren't as thick as yours." "She said she wanted to know what it felt like to be proposed to and started crying her eyes out. I couldn't say no." Feeling the cold, hard diamond digging into my skin, I looked up at him stiffly. "You let her wear our engagement ring?" His eyes swept coldly over my hands, no longer delicate after years of hard work. "It's not a big deal. I just thought the delicate pink suited a young girl her age much better." "If you're disgusted that someone else wore the ring, you can throw it away. If you're disgusted by a man someone else slept with..." The corner of his mouth twitched, his tone icy. "...you don't have to marry me." "It's up to you." Standing in the empty jewelry store, the dazzling diamond on my finger suddenly felt like a needle piercing my flesh, the pain excruciating. "Take it off." My voice was hoarse as I stared at the ring lodged in my skin. Ethan looked at me as if he'd just heard a joke, raising an eyebrow. "Stella, stop throwing a tantrum. The sales associates are watching." "It's your own fault for gaining weight lately, even your fingers got thicker. Who else can you blame?" He didn't even bother to look at me, staring down at his phone, replying to messages. The screen's glow reflected on his face, revealing a tender expression he had never shown me. I yanked at the ring with all my might. The skin on my knuckle tore, and blood seeped out. A piercing pain. But I couldn't feel it. Because the place where my heart was hurt far worse than my finger. "You know this is my engagement ring." I stared at him intently. "If it's mine, why did you let Chloe wear it?" Ethan clicked his tongue in annoyance and finally put his phone away. "She's just an intern, fresh out of college. She's completely innocent." "She saw a pretty ring, got curious, and wanted to try it on. What's the big deal?" "Why are you being so petty, holding a grudge against a girl who just graduated?" He spoke so self-righteously, as if I was the one being unreasonable. "Innocent?" I let out a cold laugh, pulled out my phone, and opened Chloe's Instagram. In the photo, a pale, delicate hand wore my engagement ring, striking various poses in the sunlight. The caption read: [The boss says only clean hands like mine are worthy of this shade of pink. Some washed-up housewives are only good for scrubbing pots and pans.] Ethan glanced at it, his expression shifting slightly, but he quickly returned to his careless demeanor. "She was just joking. Are you seriously taking that to heart?" "Alright, I have things to do at the company. Take an Uber home." "Since the ring is on, just leave it on, so you don't lose it." With that, he turned on his heel and walked away without a second glance. He didn't even bother to ask if my hand hurt. Watching his resolute back, I suddenly found it somewhat hilarious. Seven years. I stood by his side as he went from having nothing to being worth over a hundred million. To save money for his startup, I washed our clothes in freezing water during the dead of winter, my hands covered in chilblains. To help him secure investments, I drank with clients until my stomach bled, landing me in the hospital for three days. Whose fault was it that my hands were now rough? Whose fault was it that my knuckles were deformed? And now, he despised these very hands, deeming them unworthy of the engagement ring that symbolized our commitment. He even indulged another woman as she publicly trampled on my dignity. I gave a violent yank. "Hiss—" The ring was forcefully ripped off, taking a chunk of flesh with it. The pink diamond flashed with an eerie light under the store lamps, stained with my blood and the cheap perfume Chloe had left behind. So dirty. I raised my hand and threw the million-dollar diamond ring into the nearby trash can without a shred of hesitation. "You're right." "A man someone else slept with is just like a ring someone else wore." "They're both trash." By the time I got home, it was already 10 PM. I pushed open the door to a pitch-black apartment. Ethan wasn't home yet. Normally, no matter how late it was, I would always leave a light on, waiting for him. But tonight, I didn't turn on a single light. By the moonlight streaming through the window, I saw a thermos sitting on the dining table. It held the fish soup I had spent four hours simmering that afternoon. Ethan's stomach had been acting up lately, so I specifically went to the market to buy wild-caught carp, boiling it down until the broth was thick, white, and fragrant. Before I left the house, I texted him, reminding him to drink it. Now, the lid of the thermos was off. Half the soup was gone. I walked over, picked up a spoon, and stirred it. Suddenly, my hand froze. Floating in the soup was a long strand of hair. Chestnut brown, with loose waves. My hair is straight and black. Chloe has chestnut brown hair with loose waves. A wave of intense nausea hit my stomach. Just then, the sound of the key turning in the lock came from the entryway. The lights flicked on, and Ethan walked in. He jumped when he saw me standing in the dark, then frowned deeply. "What are you doing creeping around in the dark without turning the lights on?" He loosened his tie as he kicked off his shoes, reeking of alcohol. On his collar, a faint lipstick smudge was barely visible. I recognized that shade. It was the exact same color Chloe was wearing in her selfie today. "Did you drink the soup?" I pointed at the thermos on the table, my tone frighteningly calm. Ethan paused, his eyes darting away for a second. "Yeah, it was good." "Just a little bland. Add more salt next time." He gave a dismissive answer and started heading for the bathroom. "Is that so?" I let out a soft laugh. "Did Chloe think it was bland too?" Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, his face dark. "Stella, are you ever going to drop this?" "I was just dropping Chloe off on my way back. She was hungry, so I let her have a few sips." "It's just a bowl of soup. Do you have to interrogate me like a criminal?" "You never used to be like this." "You used to be so gentle and understanding. You never picked fights over trivial things." He looked at me with disappointment, as if I had turned into an unreasonable shrew. Used to be? I used to think you were worth it. Looking at the man in front of me, I felt a sudden, profound sense of unfamiliarity. Where did the Ethan who swore to give me a good life disappear to? "Ethan." "I spent four hours making that soup." "I washed my hands until they wrinkled just to get the fish smell out." "You gave it to another woman, and you have the nerve to complain it's bland?" Ethan rubbed his temples in annoyance. "Alright, it's just soup. I'll have the maid make you ten bowls tomorrow." "Chloe had an emergency. Her blood sugar dropped, and she almost fainted." "Saving a life is a good deed. Can't you show a little compassion?" Low blood sugar? More like a low IQ. "Ding—" Ethan's phone chimed. He glanced at the screen, and his dark expression instantly softened. It even held a trace of doting fondness. Although he quickly turned off the screen, I still saw it. Sender: Unforgettable Chloe. Message: [Mr. Sterling, thank you for the loving fish soup. My body is warm, and my heart is warm too~] Followed by a shy emoji. I felt nothing but pure irony. My hard work had become a tool for their flirtation. "Who was that?" I asked, knowing the answer. "A work group chat." Ethan lied without missing a beat. "Something urgent came up at the company. I need to go handle it in the study." With that, he grabbed his phone, hurried into the study, and locked the door behind him. Leaving me alone with half a thermos of fish soup tainted with another woman's saliva. I picked up the thermos, walked over to the toilet. And dumped the soup, fish and all, straight in. I flushed. Whoosh— Trash belongs where trash goes. The next day was scheduled for my wedding dress fitting. We had booked this six months in advance. A custom-made piece by a renowned French designer, the only one of its kind in the world. I flew to Paris three times just for this dress, having my measurements taken over and over. It was my dream. Ethan was an hour late. When he finally arrived, Chloe was trailing right behind him. "Chloe said she's never seen a haute couture wedding dress, so she wanted to come open her eyes." Ethan explained, his tone so natural, as if bringing your mistress to your wedding dress fitting was the most normal thing in the world. Chloe, wearing a pink cocktail dress and clinging to Ethan's arm, smiled with absolute, innocent naivety. "Stella, you don't mind, do you?" "I'm just curious. I'll just look and leave, I promise I won't bother you." She blinked her big eyes, looking entirely harmless. I stared at her arm looped through Ethan's and said coldly, "I do mind." "Get out." The air instantly froze. The sales associates exchanged panicked glances, not daring to breathe. Chloe's eyes instantly welled up, tears falling on command. "Stella, why are you being so mean..." "I was just envious of your relationship with Mr. Sterling and wanted to soak up some of the good vibes..." "If I made you unhappy, I'll leave right now..." She turned to go, but Ethan grabbed her arm. "Stella! Are you out of your mind?!" He glared at me furiously. "Chloe is practically a child! Why are you picking on her?" "I brought her here. If anyone's getting out, it's me!" What a protective knight in shining armor. I laughed out loud, fueled by pure anger. "Fine. Then take her and get out." "I'm not trying on this dress." I turned to leave. "Stop right there!" Ethan lunged forward and grabbed my wrist. "I already paid for it. You will try it on!" "Stop embarrassing me in public!" Without another word, he shoved me into the fitting room. The terrified associates brought the dress in. I took a deep breath, forcing down the rage bubbling inside me. One last time. If this dress still fit, I'd give him one more chance. After all, seven years of history couldn't be erased in an instant. However, the moment I put the dress on, my heart went completely cold. The zipper wouldn't close. The waist was a full size too small. The bust was so tight I could barely breathe. This wasn't my size at all. "What is the meaning of this?" I frowned at the associate. She stammered, avoiding my gaze. "Um... Mr. Sterling called a couple of days ago and said you had lost weight, so he asked us to take it in a bit..." Lost weight? I had actually gained five pounds recently because Ethan was forcing me to take supplements to prepare for pregnancy! "He also said..." The associate glanced nervously at Chloe waiting outside, her voice dropping to a whisper. "He said he wanted to change the design... make it a bit more... youthful." I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The originally elegant, sophisticated mermaid gown had been transformed into a poofy ballgown. The bodice was now plastered with cheap-looking bows. How was this my wedding dress? This was clearly Chloe's style! I violently yanked the curtain open. Ethan was sitting on the sofa, feeding Chloe grapes. When he saw me, he froze, then his brow furrowed. "Why are you dressed like that?" "You look like a stuffed sausage." Chloe covered her mouth, giggling. "Oh my, Stella, did you gain weight?" "Look how tight it is on you, you're spilling out." "Mr. Sterling, it seems my taste really doesn't suit Stella after all." "I told you, this youthful, girly style only looks good on petite girls." She stood up, walked over to me, and reached out to touch a bow on the dress. "But the fabric is gorgeous. If I were wearing it..." She shot Ethan a loaded look. And Ethan actually nodded. "True. This style definitely suits Chloe better." "Stella, you're older now. You really can't pull off these pale pink colors." "Why don't we just give this to Chloe to use as a bridesmaid dress, and you can pick out a new one." Boom— The final string holding my sanity together snapped. Give it to her as a bridesmaid dress? My main wedding gown, as her bridesmaid dress? Ethan, just how low are you going to trample on me? I looked at the disgusting pair standing before me, and a wave of pure revulsion washed over me. I ripped the veil off my head and threw it hard onto the floor. "No need." "I'm not wearing this dress." "And I'm not going through with this wedding." Ethan thought I was just throwing a tantrum. "Acting out again?" "Stella, is your menopause starting early?" "Always threatening to break up or cancel the wedding over every little thing. Is it fun for you?" "Hurry up and change. Stop making a fool of yourself in front of outsiders." He picked up the veil, dusted it off, and tossed it to the sales associate. "Box it up and have it delivered to Ms. Hayes' apartment." I didn't say a word. I turned back into the fitting room and changed back into my own clothes. When I came out, Ethan was already waiting in the car. Chloe was sitting in the passenger seat. That was my designated seat. "Stella, I get carsick easily, so I'm more comfortable up front. You don't mind, do you?" Chloe poked her head out the window, looking the picture of innocence. I opened the back door and slid in. "I don't mind." "I don't fight over seats reserved for the dead." Chloe's face went white, and she immediately turned to Ethan to complain. "Mr. Sterling, listen to Stella..." Ethan glared at me through the rearview mirror. "Stella, watch your mouth." "Show some class!" I closed my eyes, entirely done with him. The car sped along, arriving at the Sterling family estate. Today was the monthly Sterling family dinner. Both of Ethan's parents were there. When they saw Chloe walking in behind Ethan, their expressions soured. "Ethan, who is this?" His mother asked. "A new intern at the company, Chloe Hayes." Ethan introduced her. "She's working hard all alone in a new city; it's not easy for her. I brought her over for a home-cooked meal." "Hello Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, I'm Chloe." Chloe bowed politely, presenting the gifts she had prepared in advance. "I bought these supplements specifically for you. They aren't expensive, but it's the thought that counts." You can't slap a smiling face. Even though his parents were displeased, they didn't say anything and let her sit down. During the meal, Chloe went out of her way to flatter them. She poured wine for Ethan's father, served food to his mother, her mouth as sweet as honey. She had the older couple beaming with delight. Meanwhile, I sat in silence, my mood plummeting. "Stella, don't just sit there eating. Learn a thing or two from Chloe." His mother scolded me. "Look at this young girl, so thoughtful and attentive." "You're about to marry into the Sterling family, and you're still so wooden. How are you going to manage a household and raise children?" My grip on my chopsticks tightened. Manage a household and raise children? The Sterling family is a pedestal I have no interest in worshiping at. "Oh, Mrs. Sterling, please don't be hard on Stella." Chloe spoke in her sickly-sweet voice. "Stella is a woman of great importance. Unlike me, who only knows how to serve people." "Oh, Mr. Sterling, I really want some of that shrimp, but I can't peel it..." She looked at Ethan with puppy-dog eyes, pointing at the plate of braised prawns. Without a second thought, Ethan picked up a prawn, ready to peel it. But Chloe stopped him. "Mr. Sterling, your hands are meant for signing multi-million dollar contracts, not peeling shrimp." She turned to me, smiling brightly. "Stella, I heard you're incredibly fast at peeling shrimp. Could you help me out?" Everyone's eyes fell on me. Ethan looked at me too, issuing a command as if it were the most natural thing in the world: "Stella, peel a few for Chloe." "She got her nails done and can't do it." I looked at Chloe's fingers, adorned with dazzling, diamond-encrusted acrylics, and then down at my own bare nails. While preparing for pregnancy, I gave up manicures, stopped dyeing my hair, and even switched all my skincare to pregnancy-safe brands. And now, he wanted me to use these hands—hands that had grown rough for his sake—to serve his mistress? "Hurry up, what are you staring at?" Ethan urged. "Don't be so petty, it's just peeling a shrimp." His mother chimed in: "Yes, Stella, you're the older sister here. What's wrong with taking care of the younger one?" I took a deep breath and picked up a shrimp. Slowly, I peeled off the shell. The red shrimp oil stained my fingertips. Chloe looked at me smugly, opened her mouth, and waited to be fed. "Thank you, Stella. Ahhh—" Looking at her gaping maw, I suddenly burst out laughing. I laughed so hard tears almost sprang to my eyes. This was the man I had loved for seven years. This was the family I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. This was the love I was willing to sacrifice everything for. What an absolute, total joke!
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