Chapter 3

The hospital ordeal wasn't over.

The next day, Chloe Vance created a scene in the hospital lobby.

She'd arrived with a small entourage of online followers, live-streaming, claiming she was there to support "the love of her life's wife."

Then, in front of everyone, she pulled out a small blade and made superficial cuts on her wrist, wailing about how she couldn't live if anything happened to Ethan or his "fragile marriage."

Nurses rushed to her, cameras flashed.

Ethan, who had been sitting by Ava's bedside looking contrite, heard the commotion.

He jumped up, his face a mask of concern, and rushed out, abandoning Ava once more to attend to Chloe.

Some online comments lauded Chloe's "devotion," calling her brave.

Ava overheard two nurses gossiping later at the station.

"That CEO's got a real drama queen on his hands," one said.

"Yeah, and his wife just lying in there. It's an obvious affair, poor woman."

The words barely registered.

Ava felt a strange detachment, a cold clarity.

After Ava was discharged, Ethan, full of apologies, attempted a make-up dinner at a fancy restaurant.

He insisted on ordering for her, a grand gesture he thought romantic.

He ordered a towering seafood platter, their "celebration dish."

He'd forgotten her severe shellfish allergy, an allergy that had once sent her to the ER in college, an event he'd witnessed.

Ava just stared at the platter.

Before she could speak, Ethan's phone buzzed.

Chloe.

"It's a work emergency," he said, already standing. "I have to go. I'm so sorry, Ava, I'll make this up to you."

He kissed her forehead and hurried out.

Ava didn't touch the food.

She paid the bill and left.

On a hunch, she drove towards a high-end tattoo parlor Chloe had once mentioned online.

She found Ethan's car parked outside.

Peeking through the tinted window, she saw Chloe, back exposed, a tattoo artist working diligently.

Ethan was beside her, holding her hand, leaning in to kiss her shoulder.

Ava watched them in a passionate embrace, Chloe's face alight with triumph.

The tattoo, Ava realized with a sickening lurch, was Ethan's portrait.

Back home, Ava opened her laptop.

She logged into an exclusive online marketplace for luxury goods.

Methodically, she listed every valuable gift Ethan had ever given her, the jewelry, the designer bags, even her engagement ring and wedding band.

She set the prices reasonably, for a quick sale.

Within hours, notifications started pinging.

Ethan found out when a concerned friend, a collector, called him about the listing for her rare diamond necklace.

He rushed home, panicked.

"Ava! What are you doing? Why are these things for sale?"

"They're mine to sell, Ethan," she said calmly, not looking up from her book. "I need the money for my new life."

His face crumpled. "New life? What are you talking about? We can fix this!"