The Day I Stopped Waiting

After leaving the hospital, I wrapped myself tightly in my coat and weakly made my way home.

At 10:41 p.m., Ethan finally returned.

"It's pitch black in here. How are you getting lazier with age? You didn't even bother turning on the lights," were the first words out of his mouth as he stepped through the door.

I curled up on the sofa in silence and glanced at the dishes on the table that had been left untouched for three days.

Those were the meals I had prepared before my fever, feeling sorry for Ethan working late at the office and not eating properly.

At this moment, I realized that the lonely hours I spent suffering in the hospital were the same hours Ethan spent enjoying himself with Anna. He had not even come home, let alone eaten the food.

Ethan followed my gaze and noticed the now-stale dishes. His expression turned impatient.

"Stop acting up. You know how busy I've been," he said coldly.

"It's normal to miss meals when work gets hectic. You work too, so you should understand how hard this is for me. Besides," he added with practiced ease, "you have no idea how long I had to entertain those clients today. I just wrapped it up and rushed straight home to see you."

He stretched his neck. It was as if this was his helpless excuse for rejecting my 16 calls.

I watched him with a faint smile, every frame of him with Anna at the hospital replaying in my mind.

"Is that so?" I asked, forcing a smile through the pain.

Ethan frowned, annoyed at my questioning, and quickly retorted, "Of course. I'm a workaholic. I'm doing this to build a better future for you. Work is all I know."

As though nothing had happened, he casually ordered me, "Oh, right. Pack my suitcase and stock up on snacks and fun things. I have a business trip to Bali."

I blinked. As one of the company's senior managers, I had not heard of any projects in Bali. I deliberately asked, "Do you need me to come along?"

Ethan immediately cut me off, as if afraid I would cause a scene. "No. My secretary will come along. It's an important client meeting, and I don't need you getting in the way."

He walked toward the bathroom, tossing his phone onto the table as he passed.

The moment the bathroom door clicked shut, his phone lit up. The screen displayed Anna Lane's profile picture, which was a plate of cookies.

Ironically, I had made those cookies for Ethan last Christmas as a handmade gift after he begged me to. He must have given them to Anna as a gesture, and she used them as her profile photo.

Nausea rolled through me as I read Anna's next text message.

[Mr. West, I'm so touched that you're taking me to Bali for a little getaway. Do you want me to wear the Officer Bunny outfit? Maybe it'll look even better on a mom-to-be.]

I nearly vomited in disgust.

I expressionlessly locked the phone and set it down. Ethan seemed to realize he had left his phone outside and emerged hastily to grab it.

Holding it tightly, he shot me a sharp glare.

"Why haven't you packed my things yet? Don't forget snacks and entertainment; I don't want to be bored. Oh, and pack a box of condoms. You never know what might happen outdoors. It's for my safety. You understand that, right?"

I stared coldly at Ethan's shameless face. Snacks and entertainment? Those were clearly for Anna.

As for the condoms… Was he planning some wild fling in the outdoors with her and expecting me to prepare for it?

My entire body tingled with anger, which was made worse by my lingering fever.

I stood up shakily, stumbled to the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. Ignoring Ethan's shouting, I pulled the covers over myself and tried to sleep.

Outside, Ethan smashed a glass against the floor in a fit of rage. He kicked the door and cursed, "What's wrong with you? You're twenty-seven and still throwing childish tantrums? All this just because I was too busy to answer a few phone calls?"

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears streamed down my face.

How laughable. He still thought I was angry about him ignoring my calls.

Ethan continued swearing outside for a while but eventually quieted down, probably distracted by flirtatious messages from Anna.

The next morning, he dressed sharply in a suit and had a huge smile on his face, likely still basking in the sweetness of his late-night conversation with her. He seemed to have completely forgotten about me.

I, on the other hand, had an important meeting involving a 40-million-dollar project. I could have driven myself, but my Mercedes was still missing.

Ethan had borrowed it recently, saying Anna's family had an emergency and could not find a car in time. He reassured me that Anna, as his secretary, was trustworthy.

I had agreed.

A week later, I overheard from others that Ethan had taken my Mercedes to Anna's class reunion to make an impression. Anna, trying to show off, got drunk and crashed it.

When I confronted Ethan about it, he just called me petty.

"You could afford ten Rolls-Royces if you wanted. What's a little accident with a Mercedes? Anna didn't do it on purpose," he had said casually. "Besides, didn't I send it in for repairs? I'll get it back to you soon."

I had not seen my car, even up until this moment.

As Ethan rushed to leave, I swallowed my frustration and grabbed his arm, forcing myself to speak. "Wait. I have a meeting about a forty-million-dollar project today. I overslept because I'm still sick, and I don't have my car. Can you give me a ride?"