Two days later, Ethan finally came home.
He walked into the villa, looked around at the emptier rooms, and frowned. “You threw out my stuff?”
I turned a page in my magazine without looking up. “Mm-hm.”
His brows pulled together. “Why?”
“Because I bought it,” I said. “And if I want to throw it out, I can. You never come home anyway. It’s not like you use any of it.”
He seemed to think I was still angry over whatever his last offense had been. There were so many, I wasn’t sure myself. He sat down beside me and spoke in the lazy, indulgent tone he used when he thought I was being unreasonable.
“Didn’t we agree? We have fun outside, but it doesn’t mean anything. Why are you getting worked up again?”
Again.
Always again.
He always had an explanation. Always a loophole. Always a way to make his betrayal sound smaller and my pain sound bigger.
I snapped the magazine shut and stood. “You’re thinking too much. I don’t care.”
He caught my wrist before I could leave. From his pocket, he took out an invitation and placed it in my hand.
“Don’t be mad. Come to an auction with me tomorrow. Buy whatever you want.”
I almost refused.
Then I saw the Sotheby’s seal.
I looked at Ethan. At the man whose money I had once carefully helped protect, multiply, invest, and preserve, while he spent my love like it was an unlimited credit line.
Fine, I thought.
If I was leaving, I might as well make myself happy on the way out.
The next afternoon, his car pulled up outside exactly on time.
I came downstairs with my purse and opened the passenger-side door—
Then froze.
Sophie was already sitting there in the front seat.
She was holding a giant bag of snacks and smiling up at me with fake sweetness. “Mrs. Frost, I get carsick. Would you mind sitting in the back today?”
My eyes dropped to the custom dashboard ornament in front of her seat.
Princess Sophie’s Exclusive Passenger Seat.
I almost laughed.
Ethan saw my face and instantly slipped into that coaxing tone again. “Sophie’s never been to an auction before. I just brought her along so she could see the world a little. She’s spoiled. Let her have this one.”
Let her have this one.
As if I were fighting over a chair.
As if I still wanted any place beside him at all.
I smiled faintly, shut the door, and got into the back seat.
The whole drive, Sophie fed Ethan bites of cake with the spoon she had already used, laughed too loudly at his jokes, leaned close every chance she got. He looked at her with the easy warmth he had once reserved for me.
I kept my eyes on the fall trees outside the window and counted down the days in my head.
At the venue, Sophie suddenly complained that her heels hurt.
Ethan chuckled, called her delicate, and immediately took her to the nearest luxury store to buy her flats. He knelt to help her try them on, checking the softness of the soles with patient care.
Watching him there, I remembered a week earlier when I had been burning with a fever and asked him to bring me a glass of water.
He had said he was busy.
Once, back when he was still chasing me, I had deliberately told him that if he wanted a chance, he could buy me the red bean cakes from a bakery all the way across the city. A blizzard had been falling that day. Any sane person would have known I was making it impossible on purpose.
Ethan drove through five hours of snow and brought them to me still warm from inside his coat.
For years I had asked myself how that kind of love could become this.
Standing there in the white glare of a luxury shoe store, I finally understood.
It hadn’t changed.
I had simply mistaken obsession for devotion and effort for character.
No one can reform a man who loves the chase more than the destination.
I entered the auction hall alone.