Chapter 13

The next day, I woke up with two huge dark circles under my eyes, exhausted.

Just then, a delicious smell wafted over.

Seafood congee!

I ran out of the room excitedly—and saw Ethan Brown busy in the kitchen.

This man could cook?

Back then, Ryan Smith— that jerk—would’ve rather died than cook.

I walked over to Ethan quietly.

“Is there any for me?” I asked, looking up at him expectantly.

“No,” he said coldly.

“Fine, I’m going to work,” I said, turning to leave, disappointed.

“Come here and get your bowl,” he said.

“Coming!” I ran over, grinning.

Seafood congee was my favorite!

“About last night...” Ethan said casually, as if it was no big deal.

I’d been happily eating my congee—but the memory of last night came flooding back.

Oh no, I’d almost forgotten...

My hand holding the spoon shook. The congee in front of me suddenly didn’t taste as good.

“Cough... It was just an accident, I know, I know,” I said, forcing a smile, pretending not to care.

“Where did you get that idea?” The man looked at me like I was crazy.

“Well... adult men and women... alone together... wouldn’t they...? Or not?” I stammered.

“I’m not the kind of man who takes advantage of others,” Ethan said, his expression turning serious.

“Hey, I was just saying! I was just trying to say I understand!”

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” There was a hint of expectation in Ethan’s eyes.

“Say what?” Come on—I really had nothing to say.

“Nothing,” he said.

Ethan took my empty bowl and walked into the kitchen—on his own.

Wait, I didn’t have to wash the dishes?

Watching his back, I thought—so many women must be in love with him.

If it weren’t for my special situation, I’d never get to experience this kind of tenderness from him.

I also knew his kindness to me was just an act.

Lost in thought, I heard Ethan’s voice again:

“It’s raining outside. I’ll drive you to work later.”

Well, he was playing the “good husband” role pretty well.

In the car, we sat in an unusual silence.

The sound of rain outside made the atmosphere even more awkward.

I suddenly didn’t know how to act around Ethan Brown anymore.

Because something felt off.

I’d never told him my throat was often sore—but when I got out of the car, he handed me a thermos with balloon flower tea inside, my favorite.

I’d never told him what time I got off work—but the second I walked out of the office building, I saw him standing by the car, looking at me.

The sunset’s red glow fell on him. When our eyes met, I felt truly confused.

Did he really need to act this well?

But I didn’t want to trust anyone anymore.