Chapter 10

Emma dragged her worn-out body back home, looking like a complete mess—it nearly gave Nanny Lee a heart attack. “Ma’am! What happened to you? You’re soaking wet! Come in quick and get changed!” Grace had just taken a full basin of foot water right to Clara’s head. Boiling with frustration, Clara obviously needed someone to vent her anger on—and Emma was the perfect target. While Ethan wheeled his mom away, Emma had already guessed what was coming. Clara was bound to lash out at her with every nasty word she could think of. “I’m fine. Could you go run a bath for me, please?” Emma sidestepped Nanny Lee, pulling her arm gently from her coat, revealing her wrist wrapped tight in gauze. When Clara had hurled that thermos at her, she was already in the middle of a brutal chest pain. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t smashed directly into her face. Not that Ethan saw any of that, of course. Sinking into the hot water, Emma let herself drift. Her mind wandered to the things she normally locked away—the stuff too painful or pointless to dwell on. Like the first time she’d heard Ethan’ name and felt her heart flutter, like a young girl peeking out through spring rain. Or the first time she actually saw him—how fast her feelings grew, even though deep down, she knew this love was never meant for her. Still, she fell, hard. And believed, foolishly, she could somehow rewrite her destiny, even if the road ahead was all thorns. The heat soaked through her skin, loosening every nerve. She felt hot, but weirdly cold too. She sank deeper, her mind fuzzy, until that smiling face from the past suddenly sharpened in front of her eyes. “Emma!!” That sharp voice snatched her back from the edge, yanking her fading consciousness into place. When her eyes fluttered open, the first thing she saw was Ethan—his whole expression tense, like all concern had been packed away under a cold, unreadable face. Emma blinked. Maybe she was hallucinating. “I...” Her head throbbed, her body chilled. Then it hit her—she was completely naked, lying on the couch, and Ethan was right there. Immediately, her cheeks flushed red without her even realizing.“Emma, you really don’t disappoint, do you? Next time you wanna pull some pathetic wrist-slitting stunt, at least don’t wrap it with such a damn ridiculous bandage,” Ethan snapped, grabbing her wrist and tossing it onto the couch without much care. That sharp, stabbing pain? It yanked her straight back to reality. She suddenly remembered—she fell asleep while taking a bath. The newly stitched wound on her wrist had been soaking in the hot water the whole time, numb and unprotected. Probably turned the whole tub into a bloody mess. No wonder her head was spinning now. “Let me make this clear, Emma,” Ethan scoffed coldly, “If you’re so eager to die, be my guest. We’re still legally married, remember? If you drop dead, I’m a widower, end of story—don’t even need to split the assets. Just do me a favor and die somewhere out of sight next time!” “I didn’t… I just dozed off.” Emma didn’t bother explaining further. She pulled her hand back, hiding it beneath her body and trying to cover herself with the throw blanket from the couch. She already knew—more explanations would only earn more contempt from him. Supporting her sore waist, Emma slowly sat up and wrapped herself tightly in the blanket. “Fine, whatever makes you feel better. But trust me… even if the world ends tomorrow, I’ll be the last one giving up on life.” Because no one knew better than she did what a privilege it was—just to be alive. Emma let out a bitter smile, then started staggering toward the bedroom. “I’m heading to bed now. Don’t you have plans with Clara tonight?” “Spare me the fake concern,” Ethan snorted, but his eyes were already trailing her curves before he could stop himself. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath—the blanket barely covered her front, and the exposed lines of her back, the way her waist curved into her hips—it all looked like some damn masterwork of art. He forced himself to look away. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, the bandage on her wrist half-loose, giving off a weird mix of raw vulnerability and cold distance. Ethan swallowed hard. He didn’t get it—when the hell did he start feeling this strange craving for Emma? But he refused to call it attraction. No. This… this was revenge, plain and simple. “You called my mom to stir up trouble on purpose, didn’t you? Just so I’d come running back to play your little game?”