Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The bakery called to ask if they should deliver the birthday cake.

"No, just throw it away," I said.

Since Luna’s ex-husband knew where she lived, she couldn’t go back. Ethan took it for granted that she’d stay with us.

"Luna, my home is your home. Stay as long as you want." He looked at me as he said it, his words sending a chill through me.

He’d sworn just days ago that he’d never rekindle things with Luna. Now he was letting her take over my home as if it were hers. How dare he?

"Sure—stay as long as you like. Make yourself at home." I turned and left.

Ethan personally cleaned out a guest room for Luna, fussing over every detail to make sure she was comfortable. I went back to the master bedroom, told the housekeeper to change all the bedding, and had her throw the old sheets away.

After all, anything a "green tea" had touched was too dirty for me. Then I locked the door behind me.

I was done with Ethan Wilson. He only had eyes for Luna now—I meant nothing to him.

Ethan didn’t knock on my door once that night.

In the middle of the night, I was woken by a searing pain that shot through my skull, as if a thousand needles were piercing my brain. It took ages for the pain to subside. I forced myself up, wrapped in a coat, and took a taxi to the hospital.

It was still early, and my doctor hadn’t arrived yet. I sat on a cold chair in the hallway—my body felt just as cold as the plastic. Drowsy, I fell asleep leaning against the wall, only to be woken by my doctor, Daniel Thompson.

"When did you get here? Why didn’t you call me?" he asked.

"I forgot." I really hadn’t thought to call him in advance.

Daniel asked about my condition and ordered several tests. In the end, he frowned, clearly worried.

"You’re not doing well at all. Didn’t I tell you to take your medicine on time, rest more, and keep your mood stable?"

"I know—I’ve been trying my best."