All over a single phone call from his ex. "Ethan," I said, my voice trembling, though I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or something else. What if I told you that I need you to come with me today?

He seemed surprised that I would act unreasonable and speak up. He paused for a moment before his eyes turned entirely cold. There was no anger in them, only complete indifference and dismissal. "Chloe, stop throwing a fit."

He reached out and firmly unclasped my hand from the door handle. "Go back on your own. I'll have Leo contact you." Without another glance, he rolled up the window.

The engine growled and the black car didn't hesitate for a second before merging into traffic and speeding away down the airport highway. Almost the moment the car disappeared from view, the long-brewing torrential rain came crashing down. Heavy raindrops pelted my body, my face, and my suitcase. The freezing water drenched my trench coat and dress in an instant.

Around me was a blur of traffic noise, bustling voices, and muffled airport announcements. Everyone was rushing toward their destinations or toward someone waiting for them. Only I stood there like a forgotten piece of luggage, isolated on the edge of the sprawling departures curb. Rain trickled down my hair and into my eyes.

It burned cold and stinging. I raised my hand to wipe it away, only to feel icy wetness on my cheeks. In that moment, the single string held taut for 3 years, the string called hope, snapped with a sharp strike, completely and utterly. As it turned out, all my devotion and waiting meant less to him than a tearful phone call from Lily.

He wasn't too busy. He just didn't want to make time for me. He wasn't born distant. He just saved all his tenderness for someone else.

And I, Chloe, in the grand script of Ethan's life, was probably nothing more than a temporary stand-in, an extra who could be written off at any moment. Now that the true lead was back, it was time for me to make a graceful exit. The rain poured harder. I stood motionless, letting the water wash over me.

Strangely, once that sharp initial pain passed, my mind fell into a hollow, eerie calm. Even a cruel, crystalline clarity. I slowly bent down and pulled up the wet handle of my suitcase. The wheels rolled with a soggy, rhythmic sound.

I didn't hail a ride home. That luxurious apartment filled with every trace of Ethan, yet devoid of any warmth of a home, was somewhere I didn't want to step foot into ever again. Dragging my luggage, I turned around and walked back into the brightly lit terminal. My soaked clothes clung to my skin, freezing, but my steps grew firmer with every stride.

I walked up to the ticket counter and used the remaining funds in my account, money I had saved from my own freelance interior design gigs to buy a ticket for the earliest flight to a quiet southern town famous for its pottery and slow-paced living. My destination wasn't the romantic Riviera I had planned, but a place Ethan would never imagine and would never bother to look for.

Before boarding, I pulled out my phone, deleted Ethan's number from my contacts, and blocked him on all messaging apps. Then I turned off my phone, popped out the SIM card, and dropped it into a lounge trash bin. Goodbye, Ethan. Goodbye to 3 years of my humble, pathetic marriage.

The plane shot into the night sky, breaking through the dense rain clouds to reveal a quiet expanse of stars outside the cabin window. My new life had quietly begun amidst the turmoil and finality.

When Ethan found Lily, she was sitting on the floor of the rehearsal studio with an ice pack resting on her swollen ankle, her eyes red and pitiful. Ethan. Seeing him, tears fell from Lily's eyes once more. Looking fragile and dependent, she whimpered, "I'm so sorry to bother you this late.

I was just in so much pain and I was all alone here." "Don't say such silly things," Ethan said, rushing over. He squatted down to examine her ankle, his movements practiced and natural. A scene like this had played out countless times during their youth.

He frowned slightly. "It's badly swollen. We need to get you to an urgent care. Can you walk?"

Lily bit her lip, shook her head, and reached out her arms with unmistakable intent. Ethan didn't hesitate for a second, scooping her up in his arms. Lily leaned her face against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar, crisp, woody scent of his cologne, a barely perceptible smirk curling at the corner of her lips. On the way to the clinic, Lily spoke in a soft, delicate voice, recounting the hardships of studying abroad, her dedication to dance, and her deep longing for him.

"Ethan, over all these years, I have always found myself thinking about our past. We had it so good back then." Ethan stayed focused on driving, offering only a muted acknowledgment in response. His eyes flicked his quiet phone screen on the console.

No new messages, no missed calls. Chloe had probably gone back home on her own. She was always like that, quiet, submissive, and never creating trouble. Thinking of this, the tiny twinge of guilt he felt for abandoning her evaporated completely.

By the time they finished treating Lily's injury and he drove her back to her rented apartment, it was already past midnight. Lily tugged gently at his sleeve, her eyes sparkling with tears. "Ethan, it's so late. Do you really have to go back?

Why don't you just crash on the couch? I'm a little scared." Ethan glanced out the window at the pitch-black night, then down at her bandaged ankle, and finally nodded. "Get some rest.

I'll be right out here. Sitting on the living room sofa, he found himself wide awake. His phone screen lit up with a reminder from Leo regarding tomorrow's schedule. It suddenly struck him that tomorrow was supposed to be some occasion, though his memory was hazy.