After sleeping in separate rooms from my boyfriend, Ethan, for half a year, my period started getting highly irregular. I went to the hospital, and an older, holistic doctor told me I had a severe hormonal imbalance, suggesting I needed to be more "intimate" with my boyfriend. That night, wearing lace lingerie, I knocked on Ethan's bedroom door. He was on the phone with a female colleague and didn't even look at me: "I'm busy. Another day." I looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Okay." 1 After coming home from the doctor's office, I dug out a set of lace lingerie that had been buried at the bottom of my drawer and spent ages posing in front of the mirror. At 28, I didn't look vastly different from when I was 25. But there was a visible exhaustion beneath my eyes, and my skin felt a bit dry. Even though I technically had a boyfriend, my face somehow carried the aura of a lonely, single woman. No wonder the doctor said my hormones were out of whack. After all, Ethan and I had started sleeping in separate rooms last year. He said he was too busy, had too many surgeries, and complained that I was a restless sleeper who always hugged him and ruined his rest. Even when I promised to change, he still moved into the guest room. Ethan had always been somewhat repressed and was never particularly enthusiastic about that aspect of our relationship. Since we started sleeping in separate rooms, our already sparse intimate life hit rock bottom. From once a week, to once a month. And now? The last time we were intimate was probably two or three months ago. I took a deep breath. Knocking on his door felt incredibly ironic. This was my own house. This was my own boyfriend. Yet, initiating intimacy with him made me feel a humiliating mix of shame and anxiety. Inside the room, Ethan was on the phone with someone. His voice was cool and indifferent, as usual. But this was his reading time—a time even I wasn't allowed to interrupt. The fact that he had the patience to stay on the phone at all was unusual. "It might be a hemangioma. I'll take a look at it tomorrow—" The voice behind the door stopped abruptly. The sheer fabric did little to cover my body. I tugged at it nervously and called out softly toward the door: "Ethan, are you asleep?" After a moment, the door finally opened. Ethan was wearing gray loungewear, holding his phone as he stepped out. When he saw me, he froze, instinctively frowned, and covered the phone's receiver with his hand. "Why are you dressed like that?" It was already awkward enough, but his question made my face burn. I forced myself to speak: "We haven't slept in the same bed for a long time." I bit my lip. "Do you want to sleep together tonight? I promise I won't hug you and ruin your sleep." "Not tonight. I have things to do." He rejected me without a second of hesitation. "Another day." "Wait—" I reached out to grab the door handle. He loosened his grip on the phone, and a young woman's voice drifted out from the speaker: "Dr. Davis?" Her voice was beautiful—clear, bright, and unmistakably belonging to a very pretty, young girl. And it sounded very familiar. If I wasn't mistaken, it was Maya, the new surgical intern in Ethan's department. I had met her once when I visited him at work. She was still a med student, with striking, radiant features, carrying herself with effortless confidence. I heard she was Ethan's junior from med school, an overachiever who had won countless awards. She was excellent. Just as excellent as Ethan. I gathered my courage. For a split second, I wanted to say so many things. I wanted to ask why they were on the phone so late at night. I wanted to ask if he could just talk to her tomorrow. I wanted to say that I didn't actually even want to sleep with him, I just hadn't held him in so long. I missed him. But looking at the growing impatience in Ethan's eyes, all my words condensed into a single sentence. "Okay. Have a good night." He swept a glance over my lingerie and shut the door. From start to finish, he didn't express a single thought about what I was wearing. I honestly would have preferred if he told me I looked terrible in it. It would have been better than this complete, utter dismissal. It felt like a humiliation. I stood blankly in front of the closed door, listening to his low voice from inside: "It's nothing. Just a minor interruption. Keep going." 2 Probably due to my hormonal imbalance, I developed insomnia, tossing and turning in sheer frustration. Eventually, I got up, grabbed a few cans of cold beer from the fridge, chugged them down, and finally drifted into a hazy sleep. In my twisted, chaotic dreams, I was back in college, dreaming of Ethan. I had been at the beach with friends, nearly drowned, and was pulled out of the water not breathing. It was Ethan, just passing by, who gave me CPR and literally dragged me back from the brink of death. I still remember coughing up water, opening my eyes, and blurting out my first blurry vision: a breathtakingly handsome face that seemed utterly incapable of showing emotion. He looked like an angel sent from above, bathed in a halo of light. His face showed no reaction, as if he had just done the most mundane thing in the world. Seeing the ambulance arrive, he simply turned and walked away. After that, I searched for him for a long time, but I never found him. Until I was 23, when our paths crossed again. My heart pounded violently in my chest as I cautiously approached him. "Hi." Ethan looked up at me, his expression indifferent. "Hello." He didn't remember me at all. ... After that, I started chasing Ethan. Delivering umbrellas in the rain, bringing him dinner when he worked overtime, dropping off medicine when he was sick. I visited so frequently that everyone in his department knew me. The nurses went from glaring at me with hostility to looking at me with a mix of pity and admiration: "Chloe, you've got a heart of steel to chase a guy this cold for so long. Respect." Ethan never gave me an opening. He rejected me time and time again. I had heard the phrase "I don't like you" so many times my ears were growing calluses. I wanted to give up, but what could I do? I liked him too much. After stubbornly chasing him for a full year, Ethan suddenly sent me a text. "Come see me now, and we can be together." My heart practically leaped out of my throat. I grabbed an Uber and rushed to his hospital. But when I pushed open his office door, I saw a gorgeous woman with voluminous waves sitting there. Ethan grabbed my hand and said to her, "I told you, I already have a girlfriend. Stop harassing me." Later, I found out Ethan was just sick of the endless women throwing themselves at him. He chose me to be his shield because I caused the least amount of drama. But that didn't matter. I liked him, and that was enough. I figured that if we stayed together long enough, even a heart of ice would eventually melt. But I never expected... Ethan's heart wasn't made of ice. It was made of solid iron. On our third anniversary, he still hadn't fallen in love with me. We had no shared hobbies, no common topics of conversation. He left early and came home late, and during the rare moments we were together, he was always busy. And now? We didn't even sleep in the same bed anymore. Under the same roof for three years, I felt further away from him than ever. At 3 AM, I opened my eyes, feeling the dampness on my pillow. I was getting tired. 3 On the exact day of our three-year anniversary, I sent Ethan a text. "We need to talk." I couldn't stand this arrangement anymore—two people together in name, but living entirely separate lives. I wanted to ask him what exactly he was thinking. After a long time, Ethan replied: "Okay. I get off shift at 7." I breathed a sigh of relief. I prepared a table full of food and poured some wine, wanting to have a serious talk about my feelings. But 7 PM came and went, and he wasn't home. It wasn't until late into the night that there was a knock on the front door. I went to open it. Maya, wearing a chic beige trench coat, was supporting a drunk Ethan. She smiled at me: "Oh? You are...?" I paused for a second. "I'm Ethan's girlfriend, Chloe. You're Maya, right? I've heard Ethan mention you." "Oh, I didn't realize Dr. Davis had a girlfriend." She smiled. "He hasn't mentioned you to me at all." She looked me up and down, her tone ambiguous. "I never would have guessed Dr. Davis liked this type." I was at home, wearing a fluffy, oversized cartoon bear pajama set, barefoot. I had seen these matching couple pajamas online and loved them, so I bought a set. Ethan never wore his, not even once. Maya, on the other hand, wore a sophisticated black turtleneck, tailored white trousers, and a pair of designer heels. I didn't know the brands, but she radiated a highly intellectual, expensive aura. I suddenly felt like she and Ethan were a much better match than Ethan and I. Her comment was incredibly rude. I was just about to frown when she practically dumped Ethan onto the sofa. "Anyway, Dr. Davis and I have a surgery tomorrow. Please take good care of him." "What surgery?" I asked instinctively. "You wouldn't understand even if I told you," Maya waved her hand dismissively. "Just ask him later, he knows." She left quickly. After she left, Ethan sobered up slightly. He had surgery the next day, so he usually never allowed himself to drink. But his alcohol tolerance was terrible; two sips were enough to make him miserable. He frowned slightly, looking at the congealed fat on the cold dishes on the table, as if just remembering why I was sitting there. He explained: "Maya is scrubbing in tomorrow. There were some clinical procedures she wanted me to review with her—and it turned into a department dinner. I forgot to tell you." I paused. "Can we talk now? I'll go heat up the food." Ethan stood up and headed for the bathroom: "Not tonight. It's too late, and I have surgery tomorrow. Next time." In the dead silence of the night, I stared at his back and said softly: "Ethan, do you think I'm just going to love you forever?" "This is important," he said coldly. "I'll come home early tomorrow." "Is everything an 'important' matter as long as it doesn't involve me?" I finally asked. He stopped walking, turning back with a slight frown. "Stop throwing a tantrum." Then he walked into his room and shut the door. I knew he probably didn't have anything romantic going on with Maya. Ethan despised cheating. If he truly liked Maya, he would have broken up with me immediately to be with her. He just didn't love me, so out of habit, he placed everything and everyone else ahead of me. The TV was playing softly in the background. It was a scene from a classic romance movie. The female lead asked the old man next to her what the song meant. The old man said, "It means—you've fallen for a girl, what do you do? Oh man, you've fallen for her, you love her so much, you love her so much you can't stand it, what do you do?" The female lead asked, "What do you do?" I was wondering the same thing: What do I do? I just loved him so much. But this love had been dragged out by years of waiting and exhaustion, and I felt like I couldn't hold on anymore. Ethan went to sleep quickly. I sat in the living room for a while, stood up, dumped all the food into the trash, and finished the wine by myself. Alcohol is a wonderful thing. It makes you forget your troubles. But why was my vision getting blurrier and blurrier? I reached up and felt a hot, wet mess all over my face. While I was crying silently, the doorbell suddenly rang. I stumbled to open it, but when I saw the person outside, I froze. My first reaction was a slight fear. The guy at the door was huge, a full head taller than me, about the same height as Ethan. Wearing a black hoodie and jeans, he looked like he could knock me out with one punch. I sobered up instantly. Just as I was about to slam the door, I saw his face and my hand paused. It was a very young boy, probably not even twenty. And most importantly, he had an incredibly handsome face. He looked a bit like Ethan. Except he didn't have Ethan's cold, mature demeanor. Instead, he radiated a bright, youthful, puppy-dog energy. "Who are you...?" I asked blankly. The boy flashed me a brilliant smile showing all his teeth, acting like we'd known each other forever as he grabbed my hand. "Hi, sister-in-law! I'm Caleb!" I was completely bewildered. My alcohol-addled brain struggled to remember who this was. The next second, when it clicked, my brain felt like it exploded! "Y-Y-You—" I pointed at him, stuttering in shock: "You're Caleb?!" 4 Thinking back, the only reason I ever found Ethan again was thanks to the kid standing in front of me. When I was 23, I was bored and found an online "boyfriend" in a video game. We got along great. He was amazing at the game and carried me up the ranks every day. Besides gaming, we had a lot in common and would chat endlessly when we weren't playing. Having been single my entire life, I fell completely in love with his attentive care. We "online dated" for six solid months. We were so obsessed with each other we practically spent 24 hours a day on voice calls, even falling asleep on the phone together. The only suspicious thing was that he seemed incredibly busy and could only talk to me at night. But he told me he was a doctor with a grueling schedule, so I accepted it. Six months in, I couldn't take it anymore. I secretly bought a plane ticket to his city and demanded we meet in person. He hesitated for a long time before finally agreeing to come out. We arranged to meet at a coffee shop. Trembling with excitement, I pushed open the doors. The next second, I froze in place. The first person I saw was Ethan—the man who had saved my life years ago, the one I had searched for endlessly but never found. Blood rushed to my head. My ears rang. My online boyfriend... was actually him?! He was a doctor. It all made perfect sense. Then I noticed he was standing next to a kid wearing a middle-school backpack. "I'm sorry," Ethan said, his voice slightly different from our calls, a bit deeper. "My younger cousin just got out of school, and no one was home to pick him up. Do you mind if he tags along?" I looked at the kid next to him. The boy had a face as flawless as a porcelain doll. His red lips were pressed tightly together as he stared at me unblinkingly. I didn't care about any of that. I frantically waved my hands. "It's fine, it's totally fine. I don't mind at all." A massive wave of happiness drowned me. I thought it was fate. But this "Ethan" was different from the one I had imagined. He was much colder, completely different from the passionate guy I talked to online. It was like he was a different person. I thought he was just disappointed in me, which made me feel incredibly insecure. But I still loved him, so I chased him for two full years before we finally got together. When Ethan and I went on dates, his little cousin Caleb was often tagging along. Caleb actually really liked me. He was always clinging to me, calling me "Chloe this" and "Chloe that." If Ethan was walking ahead of us, Caleb would hold my hand to cross the street and buy me ice cream. For birthdays and holidays, he would use his own allowance to buy me gifts. Once, he bought me a ridiculously expensive Cartier bracelet. At first, I thought it was a fake, but when I saw the receipt, I broke into a cold sweat and immediately returned it to him. He looked so disappointed and heartbroken. But later, I found out the truth. The person I was online dating for six months wasn't Ethan. It was his cousin, Caleb. Caleb had been too terrified to meet me in person, afraid I'd call him a liar and cut contact, so he begged his older cousin, Ethan, to go in his place. When I found out, I was devastated and struggled to accept it. But by that time, I was already officially dating Ethan. Plus, as Caleb grew older, I naturally distanced myself from him, and we eventually lost touch. Caleb tried to find me a few times, looking absolutely devastated. I never expected him to grow up this fast. I snapped out of my daze and stepped aside. "Why are you here so late? Is everything okay? Come inside." Caleb didn't step in. He just took a half-step back, revealing a massive suitcase behind him. "Chloe, I was getting bullied in my dorm and I don't have anywhere to go. Ethan told me I could crash here for a few days." He gave me a pitiful, puppy-dog look. "Is that okay?" 5 After Caleb moved in, Ethan and I couldn't really fight with an outsider in the house, so we just let things slide. It was obvious Ethan had a good relationship with his cousin. At dinner, Ethan even made a rare joke: "You used to cry when you were little, swearing you were going to marry her. Do you remember that?" Caleb looked shy. "That was when I was a kid. I was clueless. Please don't hold it against me, Chloe." I waved it off. "It's all just fate." He smiled, glanced at me, and didn't say anything else. ... That night, while scrolling through TikTok, I stumbled upon a viral question: "If your partner woke you up at 2 AM and said they wanted to go to the beach to watch the sunrise, what would you do?" The comments were varied, but most said: "I'd call them a psycho, and then I'd get out of bed and go watch the sunrise with them." My heart suddenly itched, even though I knew asking Ethan to do something like this was absolutely impossible. His schedule was too rigid; he'd never do anything that spontaneous. But I just had to try. I knocked on his door and asked tentatively: "Ethan, I want to go to the beach to watch the sunrise. Can you come with me?" Ethan's reaction was exactly as I expected. He frowned, his eyes glued to his phone, not even turning his head to look at me. "Stop messing around. I have surgery tomorrow." Just as I predicted. I closed the door and leaned against the hallway wall, not feeling too disappointed. Probably because I already knew exactly what the outcome would be. Caleb, who had just finished showering, walked by. He had a towel wrapped around his waist and was drying his hair with another. The young man's muscles were full and defined—not the kind built from rigid, scheduled gym sessions like Ethan's, but naturally carved from playing basketball on the courts. Seeing me, he looked a little embarrassed. He used the towel to cover his chest and made small talk: "Chloe, am I interrupting you and Ethan? I see there's another bedroom over there, maybe I should sleep in that one." "It's fine," I paused. "That's my bedroom." "Your bedroom?" He looked at me like he couldn't process the information. "You and Ethan don't sleep in the same room?" Explaining this would be too awkward, so I just gave a vague "Mm." "Oh," he nodded. "Couples should really sleep together, it's better for the relationship. But my cousin is a total neat-freak, so I guess it makes sense." He pulled the towel down, revealing his firm chest and a sharp collarbone still glistening with water droplets, smiling brightly. "Well, I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Chloe." 6 When Ethan told me his mom wanted me to come over for dinner, I thought I had heard him wrong. We had been together for so long, but he had never mentioned taking the next step. He seemed completely disinterested in marriage or starting a family. He rarely talked about his background either. All I knew was that he came from a single-parent household and was raised by his mother, who was a university professor. I thought he was finally acknowledging our age and getting ready for marriage, so I spent weeks carefully picking out gifts. When we arrived at his mom's house, I enthusiastically handed over the gifts and greeted her: "Hello, Mrs. Davis. I'm Chloe." His mother was exactly as I had pictured—dressed like a sophisticated, intellectual socialite in a white silk dress, looking very youthful and elegant. But for some reason, I felt her facial features, or maybe just her expression, seemed a bit mean. Sure enough, she just glanced at me, didn't take the gifts, and said flatly: "Come in." My heart sank. I instinctively looked at Ethan. Ethan's expression was indifferent, acting as if none of this had anything to do with him. I felt something was very wrong. Ethan had been acting weird ever since he decided to bring me here. He was expressionless, but I could clearly tell he was in a terrible mood. The dining table was empty, save for a few pieces of fruit on the coffee table. I sat awkwardly on the sofa while his mom went straight into another room without saying a word to me. I was completely confused. Just as I was about to ask Ethan what was going on, the doorbell rang. Ethan opened the door, and outside stood someone I never expected to see. Maya. She was wearing a cream-colored cashmere coat, carrying a few beautifully wrapped gifts, and walked in naturally, as if she owned the place. When she saw me, a perfectly calculated flash of surprise crossed her eyes: "Oh? You're here too." She smiled brightly and turned to Ethan's mother, who had just walked out of the bedroom. "Mrs. Davis, you said you wanted me to try your soup today, so I stopped by a bakery and brought those pastries you love." The ice on Ethan's mother's face melted instantly. She enthusiastically took the boxes, even patting Maya's hand: "You sweet girl. You coming over is enough, you don't need to be so formal. Come in, it's cold outside." She pulled Maya over to sit right in the center of the sofa, carelessly shoving my gifts—which were packaged far less impressively than Maya's—off to the side. That subtle movement felt like a slap to my face. Even Ethan hadn't expected this. He frowned: "Mom, what are you doing?" His mother replied naturally: "When I visited your hospital a while back and you weren't there, Maya took care of me. Why didn't you tell me you had such an outstanding junior colleague?" "I invited her today. You two went to the same med school and work together now; it's a rare connection." She quickly brought out the food from the kitchen. "You must be hungry. I made slow-roasted chicken soup. You mentioned you loved it last time, right?" Maya leaned in and smiled. "You're so good to me, Mrs. Davis." They sat close together, acting as intimate as a mother and daughter. Soon, dinner was served. At the long rectangular table, Ethan's mother naturally took the head seat, with Ethan sitting on her right. Maya smoothly took the seat right next to him. I paused my steps. Ethan's mother acted as if she had just noticed me, casually pointing to the seat furthest from the head of the table: "Chloe, you sit over there." That seat was the furthest away, with only a plate of cold appetizers in front of it. I sat down in silence. The fine bone china in front of me gleamed coldly under the lights. "Maya, try the soup. I simmered it for four hours. You doctors work so hard, you need to nourish your bodies." Ethan's mother personally served Maya a bowl, her smile full of maternal affection. "Thank you, Mrs. Davis. Your cooking is amazing. I've been craving this." "If you like it, come over more often. Treat this place like your own home." Ethan's mother finally glanced at me, her tone significantly colder. "Chloe, you have some soup too. Serve yourself." I didn't move. Halfway through the meal, Ethan's mother casually brought up work. "Maya, how is that joint research project going? I heard your Chief praising you the other day, saying you learn fast and are very meticulous. A real rising star." Maya smiled gracefully. "Dr. Davis is an excellent mentor." "Ethan is flawless when it comes to work and academics." Ethan's mother looked proudly at her son, then steered the conversation back. "You young people should learn from each other and grow together. Especially since you're in the same field and speak the same language. Whether in your careers or your personal lives, you can understand and support each other." She heavily emphasized the words "personal lives." I suddenly felt the urge to laugh. No wonder. Things had reached this point. If I still didn't understand what Ethan's mother was trying to do, I'd be an absolute idiot. A perfectly timed blush spread across Maya's cheeks, and she didn't say a word. Ethan's mother's smile deepened, but her focus abruptly shifted to me. "What kind of work does Chloe do again?" I said calmly, "Mrs. Davis, I'm a marketing director at an event planning firm." "Oh, marketing." She nodded. "That's nice. But it probably doesn't have much overlap with Ethan's field. When you guys chat and he talks about patient cases or medical journals... can you even understand him?" The air in the room instantly solidified. Ethan frowned slightly. "Mom." I thought I would love everything associated with him. But in that moment, I realized I absolutely loathed Ethan's mother. These so-called "intellectual elites" are experts at packaging their disdain with cold indifference, acting as if they are culturally superior. But honestly? I had never eaten a single grain of rice paid for by her family. What right did she have to dictate my life? I finally looked up and met Ethan's eyes. From the moment we walked through the door until now, he hadn't spoken a single word to me, nor had he defended me to his mother once. I suddenly found the whole situation hilarious. I spoke up: "Mrs. Davis, I'm sure Ethan doesn't understand the first thing about marketing either. I'm dating Ethan, not applying for a medical residency. Why do I need to understand his journals or his patient cases?" Ethan's mother clearly didn't expect me to fire back so directly. She was stunned for a moment. I set down my chopsticks. The ceramic clinked against the table, making a sharp, distinct sound. "As for what I like about him... in the past, I liked his kindness, his bravery, and his manners." "But looking at him now... I guess he's nothing special." "What did you say?!" Ethan's mother looked appalled. "Mrs. Davis," my voice was surprisingly calm. "I thought you invited me here to welcome me. If this kind of thing happens again, I'd appreciate a heads-up. I'm a very busy person too." "Oh, right," I smiled. "There won't be a next time." I stood up, not looking at anyone else, walked straight to the entryway, and grabbed my purse and coat. Behind me, I could hear Ethan's mother fuming: "I am furious! Ethan, what kind of woman did you find? She has absolutely no manners..." I didn't stop walking.
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