I had no desire to continue the conversation, but Ethan seemed oblivious to my silence, chattering more than usual. He tossed the used cotton swabs into the trash, packed away the first aid kit, and continued his lecture.
“I’ve already apologized to Lily for tonight’s incident. In the future, think before you speak. Stop clinging to the past.”
I watched him clean up the first aid kit, a bitter smile curling on my lips.
"Ethan, there won’t be a future for us."
"What?"
He turned, sensing something was amiss, but all he saw was me fiddling with my phone, avoiding his gaze.
In the bedroom, the empty half-wall seemed especially stark. I picked up the discarded piece of lingerie from the bed and tossed it under the bed. Even so, the bed felt filthy, tainted by the memory of their intimate moments.
My stomach churned, and I couldn’t hold it in—I vomited onto the bed.
Ethan emerged from the bathroom and, seeing the mess, frowned.
"What’s this? When someone’s unwell, they use a trash can or a toilet, not a bed.”
Seeing my pale face, he softened his tone.
“Looks like we’ll have to find a new place to sleep tonight.”
As he opened the closet to find new bedding, he accidentally knocked a picture frame off the shelf. It shattered on the floor.
Ethan, looking guilty, picked up the pieces and tried to explain.
“The frame fell. I was afraid it would break, so I took it down. Didn’t expect to drop it anyway. Just make sure the nails are secure when you hang it back up.”
I gave a noncommittal response, taking the duvet from him and heading to the guest room.
Ethan rubbed his nose and resignedly began tidying up the room.
When I woke up in the guest room, the sun was already high in the sky. Ethan hadn’t come to the guest room last night, and surprisingly, I slept remarkably well.
Stretching lazily, I wandered into the living room and spotted a breakfast laid out on the table with a note.
“Babe, I’m off to work. Remember to eat breakfast. Be good!”
The same gentle and caring tone. But today, the message felt tainted. The breakfast, once a symbol of love, now seemed laced with ulterior motives.
I grimaced and tossed breakfast and notes into the trash bin.
After finishing breakfast, the robot beeped with a reminder about my schedule. I suddenly remembered—today was the day to visit the wedding planning company to choose the wedding dress and finalize the venue decor.
Ethan had likely forgotten.