Watching Emma walk away, Ethan finally realized just how harsh his words had been.

He wasn't even sure what had gotten into him. Maybe it was the nightgown she had on-it reminded him of Lily Green. Or maybe it was just the shame from what he'd done after drinking.

He grabbed a shirt from the closet without much thought. But just as he was about to head to the bathroom, something on the bed caught his eye-a faint trace of red on the sheet.

Ethan froze, piecing things together. Her steps had been uneven when she left.

He didn't know how to explain the mix of feelings swirling inside him. After standing still for a bit, he dropped onto the sofa and stayed there till daylight.

...

Next morning, eight o'clock.

Emma hadn't slept a wink because of what Ethan said. She lay in bed, holding the blanket tightly, tossing and turning until she finally sat up.

She decided to make Ethan breakfast.

She knew he didn't care for her, not the way she did for him. But she had been in love with Ethan for five whole years.

Since they got married, she made him breakfast every morning. He usually ate it too... as long as he didn't know it was from her.

Her soft cotton slippers made no sound on the carpeted stairs. Emma stepped into the kitchen and started cooking.

At the same time, Ethan opened his eyes on the couch in the room.

"Ow-" Just a slight movement and a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. He frowned.

Had he really slept on the couch all night?

He dragged himself into the bathroom for a quick shower. When he looked at the clock, it was only 8:30.

He changed into a suit. Just as he opened the bedroom door, Emma came out of the kitchen with the last dish in her hands.

The table was set perfectly, and for a moment, a small smile played on Emma's lips.

She felt a little proud every time she managed this simple routine.

Unfastening her apron, she was about to return it to the kitchen when a tall shadow appeared in front of her.

"You-you're up?" she stammered, startled by Ethan's sudden presence. The apron slipped out of her hands and dropped to the floor.

"Yeah." He usually didn't show up till nine. Today, he was up earlier than usual.

"I'll just... head upstairs," she said quietly, forcing down the ache in her chest. She picked up the apron and started to leave.

He didn't miss the way she avoided looking at him. His gaze shifted to the breakfast on the table.

A couple of sunny-side-up eggs, crispy bacon, buttered toast, and a side of sautéed veggies-all neatly plated and surprisingly appetizing.

Seeing how she couldn't even meet his eyes, something clicked in Ethan's mind.

So it's been her making breakfast for him all along.

As she turned to walk past him, something about the way she pulled away got under his skin.

"I'm not eating. Have the maid take this away."Ethan said it lightly, not bothering to see how she reacted. He just turned around and walked out of the dining room. A while later, the sound of the front door shutting echoed through the house.

Hearing that, Emma couldn't quite explain what she felt. It was like standing alone in an empty field - nothing but silence and emptiness all around.

Let it go, Emma. You saw this coming, didn't you?

She gave a bitter smile. Picking up the breakfast she had spent so much effort on, she quietly dumped it into the trash, along with whatever feelings she still held for Ethan.

...

Two days later.

Inside the manager's office at Daisy Design Company.

"Emma, tonight's the Blossom Design Awards Night. I want you to come with me," Amy Lee said, adjusting her glasses as she looked up at the young woman in front of her.

Emma hadn't been with the company long, but her skills were obvious. That's why Amy chose her for such a major event.

"Okay, Amy." Emma's calm expression didn't show the slightest excitement. She wanted to smile, to at least pretend... but she couldn't.

Ethan hadn't come home in two days.

"Alright then, get ready. We'll head out together this afternoon," Amy waved her off casually, not bothering to hear more.

Left alone, Emma slumped in her chair, resting her head on her arms. Her whole aura screamed exhaustion.

Since their marriage, Ethan had always checked the boxes of a textbook husband. He came home on time unless he was on a business trip, topped up her bank account regularly, never treated her badly.

But... he was cold. Distant. Never touched her.

Then a few days ago - after they got a little too close, he just stopped coming home altogether.

Emma had no clue what that meant.

Did he hate her that much?

...

Top floor of Hunt Group. CEO's office.

"Mr. Hunt, according to your schedule, you're set to attend the Blossom Design Awards Night tonight. Also, you're expected to give a short speech."

The assistant stood across the desk, going over the itinerary in full detail.

"I got it. That'll be all." Ethan waved him off.

Once alone, he got up and moved to stand by the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. As he looked out at the traffic and bustle below, an odd emptiness crept into him.

Three years. She'd been gone for three years. To this day, Ethan still avoided thinking about how Lily walked out of his life.

As his thoughts wandered, another face uninvitedly popped into his mind-

Emma.

He barely paid attention to her this past year-his so-called wife. But lately, for reasons he couldn't understand, she kept appearing in his mind again and again.

But every time he thought of her, that old memory came back-how Matthew Grace pressured him into giving up shares of Hunt Group, using their marriage as leverage to merge with the Grace family business.

That's why he hadn't returned home these past few days.

Not wanting to go down that road again, Ethan buzzed his intercom. "Hey Andy, what time does that gala kick off again?"

"Seven p.m. sharp, Mr. Hunt."

Hearing that, Ethan glanced at his watch. It was almost six.

"Okay, let's head out."

...

Sunhold Grand Hotel.

"Emma, once the event starts, make sure to talk to as many people as you can. It'll really help with your future career," Amy reminded her.

"Got it, Amy," Emma nodded gently.

She looked around the grand, dazzling lobby and instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. It felt cold around her shoulders.

Half an hour earlier, Amy had dragged her to a stylist, saying her original outfit was way too plain. Now, she was wearing a strapless nude-colored gown, and her long hair flowed freely down her back.

Sure, she'd attended fancy events back when she was at the Grace household, but nothing on this level. This was a whole new world.

Taking a deep breath, Emma put on a polite smile, champagne in hand, trailing behind Amy as they mingled with the crowd.

Since this was a design award gala, the place was packed with design industry elites. Surprisingly, Emma managed to connect pretty well with everyone.

Then Ethan walked in-and what he saw stopped him in his tracks. Emma, his so-called wife, was chatting with men, smiling and looking completely at ease.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he muttered, frowning. Watching her express herself so confidently like that, Ethan suddenly realized how little he really knew her.

It was his first time seeing her look this sexy and vibrant. There was something off-puttingly unfamiliar about it.

"Mr. Hunt, those two ladies are representing Daisy Design Studio tonight," his assistant quietly informed him from behind.

"Alright, I get it," Ethan said, brushing off the weird feeling in his chest. Without another glance at Emma, he walked away.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 36th Annual Blossom Design Awards!"

As the host's voice echoed through the hall, Emma's attention shifted to the stage. But as she took a closer look at the people up there, her eyes widened.

What's Ethan doing on stage?

"Hey, I heard that Ethan took over Hunt Group when he was still pretty young. Only took him three years to turn the whole place around and expand it like crazy. That guy's legit impressive," someone whispered behind her.

Emma lowered her eyes, the emotion in them unreadable, and quietly slipped away toward the restroom.

Up on stage, Ethan noticed her leaving.

What, see me and immediately turn the other way?

Completely unaware of what he was thinking, Emma just kept her head down and walked on.

But she hadn't gone far before a man suddenly stepped in front of her.

"Hey beautiful-are you here alone?"

In the dim corner near the restroom, a chubby man with a sleazy look blocked her path, eyeing her up shamelessly.

Emma instinctively stepped back. "Excuse me... who are you?"

"Doesn't matter who I am. What matters is-I know who you are." Ronald Howard licked his lips, his gaze glued to her.

He'd noticed her the moment she walked in. A sweet-looking beauty like this? No way he was gonna let her slip by tonight.

"I-I don't know you." Emma's voice trembled a little as she caught the greedy glint in the man's eyes. It was the kind of look a starving wolf might give a piece of fresh meat. She turned abruptly, trying to leave.

"Hey now-where do you think you're going?" Ronald Howard grabbed her by the waist, his act completely dropped. "Pretty girl like you, how could I let you walk off just like that? C'mon with me, I promise you'll be taken care of..."

He leaned in, breath reeking of alcohol. Emma jerked her head to the side, trying to dodge him, but he was too strong, no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't shake him off.

Right then, she spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye-Ethan had just finished speaking and was stepping down from the stage.

"Ethan-" She opened her mouth, trying to call out. But just as her voice was about to leave her lips, he looked over. His gaze fell on her, paused for a brief moment, then... he turned away, blending right back into the crowd like nothing had happened.

Watching his back disappear, a cold ache spread through her chest.

Just then, a deep voice suddenly cut through the air behind her. "What do you think you're doing?"

Emma and Ronald froze and turned. Standing behind them was a tall, sharply-dressed man with a serious expression.

Michael Owens had just stepped out of the restroom and walked right into the scene. His brow furrowed on reflex. But when he saw who the woman was, his face changed instantly. "Emma? What's going on here?"

The concern deepened between his brows as he reached out and pulled her toward him without hesitation.

"You... you know her, sir?" Ronald asked nervously, eyes darting between Michael and Emma.

"She's a friend of mine. Got a problem with that?" Michael's gaze turned cold, and there was an unmistakable threat in the way he looked at Ronald.

"N-no, not at all..." Ronald stammered as he backed away with a sheepish grin, then bolted out of sight.

"Emma, are you okay?" Now that Ronald was gone, Michael bent down slightly to meet her eyes, voice filled with worry.

"I'm okay... Thanks, Michael." She forced a small smile, still flustered and more than a little embarrassed to be caught in such a mess by him of all people.

"You don't have to thank me. What happened? How'd you end up here? Maybe I should take you home, huh?" Seeing her pale face and shaking legs, Michael offered kindly.

"I..." Before Emma could respond, a cold voice snapped through the air behind them.

Ethan had walked off the stage after wrapping up his speech, only to catch sight of her being dragged around by some sleazy guy. Strictly speaking, she was the one being harassed, but to him, her outfit was the real problem. Maybe if she hadn't dressed like that, she wouldn't be attracting trouble.

But after just a few steps, Ethan stopped himself and turned back.

And what he saw made his jaw clench.

She was leaning on another man's shoulder, being doted on like something precious.

All at once, something hot and irrational flared in his chest just as Michael spoke again, and Ethan couldn't help but cut in.

"No need. I'll take her home."

Michael turned around in surprise and frowned when he saw who it was.

"Ethan? What the hell are you doing here?"

The irritation in Michael's voice was plain, and not entirely unwarranted. Ethan, for his part, just let out a short laugh.

"Really? That's your question?" he scoffed. "She's my wife. You seriously think I don't belong here?"

"Wife? Are you kidding me?"

Michael's eyes widened in disbelief, like someone had just punched him straight in the chest. It hurt. Bad.

He stared dazedly at Emma, who had been standing close to him just a second ago until Ethan stepped in and yanked her away, jaw tight, tension written all over his face.

"What, do we need your permission to get married now?" Ethan shot him a sarcastic smirk, not even bothering to check Michael's reaction before turning on his heel, dragging Emma along.

Emma barely had time to react when she felt a strong grip on her wrist, and the next second, she was being pulled out, stumbling as she tried to keep up.

Once they were outside the main hall, Ethan finally snapped. The anger he'd been holding in erupted, his voice sharp and laced with mockery. "Seriously, did Matthew never teach you manners? You're my wife now. Start acting like it. Don't embarrass the Hunt family."

Emma slowly lifted her head, only to meet a cold, disdainful glare from him. She laughed bitterly to herself.

Emma, are you really still holding onto the hope that you matter to this man?

She forced a smile, nodded lightly, and said, "Fine," her tone empty and weightless. She didn't spare him another glance, missing the brief flicker of conflict in his eyes when he caught her smile.

That one word made Ethan oddly uncomfortable, especially seeing how calm and unfazed she looked while he was an emotional mess. Something about that bothered him more than it should have.

"I don't care how you wormed your way in here, but don't show your face at places like this again." He tossed the words at her like they were nothing, straightening his cuffs and turning to leave.

"Why?" Emma blurted out, unable to stop herself. She looked up at his sharp profile, needing an answer.

Like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, Ethan turned back, stared at her face for a solid second, then said, slowly and deliberately, "Because you. Don't. Deserve to be."

And just like that, he was gone.

"I don't deserve to be?" Emma echoed the words under her breath, her heart sinking like a stone.

It hadn't even been a week since she last heard those same, crushing words from him.

Big, silent tears rolled down her cheeks and hit the polished floor with soft little splashes. She covered her chest with one hand, mouth parted as memories of everything she'd ever shared with Ethan started playing on a loop in her mind.

And she realized, painfully, it had always been one-sided.

When she finally looked up again, her tears had dried.

Sometimes, when the hurt runs deep enough, you can't cry anymore, even if you wanted to.

...

Three days later, in the Hunts' mansion-second floor bedroom.

"Bzz-bzz-"

The soft buzz of a text woke Emma up from her sleep.

Rubbing her temples to ease the dull ache, she glanced at the bedside clock. It was already 8:30 AM.

Emma casually glanced at her phone-it was just another boring weather alert. She sat up from bed, tossed the phone aside, and slowly made her way downstairs, feet dragging.

Ethan hadn't been back home these past few days-not surprising. Honestly, Emma thought it might be better this way, less awkward for both of them.

She yawned and didn't notice the floor was still damp from the cleaning. As her soft slippers slid to one side, a sharp pain shot up from her ankle the next second.

"Ow-"

She gasped, leaning against the wall, carefully lifting her foot without daring to move it again.

She tried rotating her ankle just a little, but the searing pain nearly made her stop breathing. Left with no choice, she gritted her teeth, clung to the wall, and slowly shuffled toward the nearest room, the study.

At the top of the stairs, a set of steady footsteps echoed, and a tall figure appeared on the second floor. Emma didn't notice.

...

9 a.m.

At the corporate tower's top floor, inside the CEO's office of Hunt Group.

There was a meeting at 10. Ethan flipped through the folders on the desk and suddenly realized a document he needed was still at the house.

He rubbed his temples, then picked up the phone. He was about to ask Andy to grab the missing file from home, but for some reason, before his finger hit the call button, a face flashed in his mind-that woman, with tear-filled eyes after he'd spoken those cutting words to her.

The phone never got dialed. Instead, as if on impulse, Ethan drove back to the house himself.

When he walked through the door and saw how empty the place was, that strange flicker of anticipation in his heart vanished instantly.

She should've gone to work by now.

With that thought, he tossed his keys on the shoe cabinet and headed upstairs straight to the study.

But once at the door, he noticed it was halfway open-his brows immediately furrowed.

Didn't he tell the staff not to enter the study when he wasn't home? Someone clearly didn't listen.

Hand on the handle, Ethan pushed the door open, only to find Emma sitting on the sofa, her back to him.

"What are you doing here?" He realized the moment he said it-that came out all wrong.

"Sorry," Emma said softly, knowing he hated people being in his study without permission. She hadn't expected him to suddenly come back, and now with her messy hair and no makeup, she quickly dropped her gaze and tried to stand.

But she completely forgot about her ankle. The second she put weight on it, her leg gave out, and she collapsed back onto the sofa.

"Ah-"

The sound of pain made Ethan freeze. When he glanced down, his eyes locked onto the red, swollen ankle and her tightly drawn brows.

"You twisted it? Why didn't you call a doctor?" His brows drew in sharply as he set his phone aside and strode over, suddenly scooping her up in his arms.

Emma let out a startled yelp, instinctively grabbing his neck for balance. "What are you doing?"