Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
My husband suffered from "Sleeping Beauty syndrome."
Every once in a while, he would fall into a deep, unbroken sleep for days on end.
Whenever his condition flared up, terrified of disturbing his recovery, I took on every single chore in the house myself.
I never once complained or got upset about his lack of companionship.
Until this latest episode.
I had forgotten my keys and turned back home. Standing right outside the front door, I distinctly heard bursts of lively laughter coming from inside.
"Ethan, have you decided where you're taking Maya for vacation this time?"
A familiar voice drifted out.
Peeking through the crack of the door, I saw Ethan openly holding Maya Miller in his arms.
Intimate. Shameless. Utterly brazen.
"Let's just visit a nearby country for a few days. Over the years, Maya and I have vacationed all over the globe. We've hit almost every destination."
"It's been so long—has Chloe really never figured out that you're faking being sick just to sneak off with Maya?"
"Chloe loves me too much. She believes every single word that comes out of my mouth."
"She even bought the whole Sleeping Beauty syndrome bullshit."
I froze on the spot, my mind going completely blank.
My phone screen lit up. It was a text Ethan had sent half an hour ago.
[Babe, it's happening again! Thank you for holding down the fort while I'm out. As soon as I wake up, I'll take you somewhere nice.]
So, the deep sleep was fake.
His desire to be with Maya was real.
In that case, I didn't see any reason for me to stay in this house anymore.
I turned around, walked away, and approved my company's overseas transfer request.
"That's fantastic, Chloe! I'll submit the paperwork right now. With processing and everything, it'll take five days at the earliest."
"Sounds good. Thanks."
Hanging up, I realized my hands were trembling so badly I could barely hold my phone.
A memory from when we first started dating flashed through my mind.
Back then, Ethan would constantly go MIA, disappear, and leave my texts on read.
I had fought, cried, and asked to break up.
That one time, I was completely resolute about walking away.
He didn't argue. Instead, he walked up to the rooftop of our building alone.
Standing on the edge, looking frail and hollow with his head hung low, his voice shook with a heartbreaking vulnerability as he gripped a medical diagnosis in his hand.
"Chloe, please don't leave me. I was diagnosed with Kleine-Levin syndrome—Sleeping Beauty syndrome. That's why I disappear without warning."
"I was terrified of telling you. I was scared you'd look down on me, scared you'd abandon me."
Seeing how broken he looked, my heart shattered. Overwhelmed with guilt, I rushed to comfort him instead.
I promised him that I would never abandon him.
Looking back now, he had been playing me from the very start of our relationship.
Three days later, I came home from the office.
The living room was pitch-black.
Just as I reached for the light switch, a pair of arms pulled me into a firm embrace.
"Hey babe, why're you home so late?"
A faint, lingering fragrance drifted into my nose.
Ethan didn't wear this cologne. It was Maya's signature scent.
A wave of nausea hit me, and I instinctively tried to shove him off.
"What's wrong? Are you mad because I slept for too long?"
Ethan gently covered my eyes, flicked the light on, and lowered his hand to search my expression.
"No. Just had a lot of work. A bit tired."
He let out a sigh of relief.
"Go take a shower, and I'll rub your shoulders to help you unwind."
"Sure."
I brushed him off casually.
"Come on, let me show you what I got you this time. You're gonna love it."
Every time Ethan woke from his "episodes," he bought me gifts.
He always said that taking care of everything while he was asleep was too hard on me.
He claimed he wanted to make it up to me double.
Back then, I felt so lucky, thinking I had found a man who cherished me so deeply.
Now I knew it was nothing more than cheap compensation to ease his cheating conscience.
I let him lead me by the hand toward the couch.
I watched as he pulled a necklace out of a designer box.
I recognized it immediately. I had just seen the exact same piece on Maya's Ins today.
Except in her photos, it had been tossed casually into the corner of the frame.
He had probably grabbed it at random from a pile of leftover luxury hauls.
"Here, babe, let me put it on you."
Ethan carefully fastened the clasp around my neck.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, all I felt against my collarbone was an icy chill.
I knew very well that this was just some scrap Maya didn't want, tossed to me like an afterthought.
Ethan buried his face into the crook of my neck, his voice muffled.
"I hate putting you through this. I picked their newest design just for you. It looks stunning on you."
I nodded, glancing down at the pendant with an empty, emotionless face.
Ethan paused, slightly caught off guard.
Then, he reached out and ruffled my hair affectionately.
His tone was sweet, laced with practiced guilt. "Are you still upset with me? Next time, I'll try my best to manage my episodes so I don't leave you alone like this."
A silent scoff caught in my throat.
Manage his episodes? More like managing his vacation schedule with Maya.
"Ethan, let's get a div—"
Before I could finish, his phone buzzed loudly.
"Hold on, babe, let me take this."
He walked out onto the balcony with his phone pressed to his ear.
Staring at his retreating back, I spaced out.
Ethan had never taken a call in front of me.
"Babe, something came up at the office. I gotta head in right now. I'll bring back those donuts you love on my way home."
Ethan leaned down and kissed my forehead.
I clenched my fists, stomach churning with disgust.
"It's urgent, but I'll wrap it up early. I'm taking you out the day after tomorrow."
I lowered my gaze, masking the cold mockery in my eyes.
"Okay."
Too bad that by the day after tomorrow, you won't even be able to find me.Not long after Ethan walked out the door, I caught an update on Maya's Ins.
[My man loves me so much. The second he heard my power went out, he drove 20 miles across town just to be by my side.]
In the corner of the picture, a familiar men's wristwatch stung my eyes like acid.
It was the very last handmade timepiece my late father had crafted before he passed away.
Countless luxury collectors had offered insane amounts of money for it back then, but I never sold it. It was my absolute treasure.
On our wedding anniversary, I had fastened it around Ethan's wrist with my own hands.
I had told him that it represented the deepest trust I could ever give someone.
For three whole years, I wouldn't even let him bump it or expose it to water, guarding it with my life.
And now, the man wearing that watch was starring in Maya's intimate, suggestive photo.
Even though I was already completely numb to Ethan, my vision still blurred with unshed tears.
Just because Maya's power went out, he raced across town without a second thought.
Yet just one week ago, when our own fuse blew, I had called Ethan in the dark, asking for help.
He had brushed me off with an indifferent excuse about being too busy, telling me to just hire a handyman myself.
Turns out, he was busy keeping Maya company.
My thoughts drifted back to the first year of our marriage.
Ethan had been away on a business trip when a severe winter storm knocked out power to our entire block.
Amidst heavy snow, he had abandoned his corporate clients and driven through the night just to make it back to me.
When I asked him how he pulled it off, he just gave me a gentle smile, refusing to brag.
He wrapped me tightly in his arms, whispering that I was safe.
The very next day, he filled the apartment with emergency lanterns and scented candles.
He made me promise that whenever the lights went out again, I wouldn't be scared—I just had to call him, anytime, anywhere.
Ethan didn't return until the following evening.
The moment he walked through the door, my eyes locked onto the fresh, bright red mark on his collarbone.
It was blatantly obvious, almost as if it had been left there intentionally for me to see.
In his hand was a warm box of donuts, exactly as he had promised the night before.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, babe. Work was slammed last night; I couldn't get away to come home to you."
He reached out naturally, moving to wrap his arms around me.
I subtly shifted my body, quietly dodging his touch.
The sudden coldness left Ethan's hands frozen in midair, a flicker of genuine shock flashing through his eyes.
"What's wrong, babe? Still mad at me?"
I looked down at the untouched box of donuts sitting on the counter. A quiet, self-mocking smirk pulled at my lips, but underneath, I felt nothing but ice.
I didn't even have the energy to be angry anymore.
"I'm not."
My voice was flat, totally devoid of emotion.
Ethan leaned down, his fingertips reaching out to brush against my cheek.
"Then don't give me the cold shoulder, alright? I know I messed up. Next time, I promise I'll cancel everything just to stay with you."
I looked up, staring directly at the bright red hickey stamped against his collarbone.
"Ethan, what happened to your neck?"
He froze mid-motion. His hand reflexively shot up to cover it, a momentary flicker of panic crossing his face before he smoothed it back into an easy smile.
"Just bumped into something at work. Didn't even notice it."
I gave a faint nod, my heart completely still.
He couldn't even be bothered to come up with a decent lie anymore.
I didn't call him out. I didn't press for answers. I just let it slide.
Maybe my sudden silence unnerved him.
"By the way, babe," Ethan began softly, his voice dropping into that familiar, tender cadence. "In a couple of days, I need to check into the clinic for another observation stay. My condition has been acting up lately, and the quiet environment will help me stabilize for a few days."
Inpatient care again.
Another "rest period."
Back then, I was stupid enough to think he was truly fragile and suffering.
I babied him, walked on eggshells around him, and carried our entire life on my back.
And all while taking advantage of my devotion, he was sneaking off to play house with Maya Miller.
"Okay," I said.
Just that one, empty word.
I turned on my heel and walked into the bedroom.
While Ethan was in the shower, my phone buzzed with an incoming DM from Maya on SnapChat.
It was a photo of an ultrasound report.Printed right across the page, the gestational age read loud and clear: eight weeks.
My mind raced through the timeline.
Eight weeks ago was his last "major flare-up."
That was the night I slipped and fell down our apartment stairs, bleeding profusely. I had dialed Ethan's number over and over, desperate for help, but every call went straight to voicemail.
I convinced myself his syndrome had taken hold and that he was trapped in an uncontrollable, deep sleep.
I had dragged myself to the ER through blinding pain, surviving emergency surgery alone in the cold recovery room.
Even after I was discharged, I drowned in guilt, constantly blaming myself for failing to protect our baby.
Looking down at the screen now, reality hit me like a splash of freezing water.
He hadn't been in a coma. He had been wrapped up in Maya's arms.
A hollow laugh escaped my lips.
Maybe our baby knew what kind of deadbeat he was and refused to be born into a family like this.
The phone buzzed again with a voice note. Maya's voice dripped with sickening sweetness:
"Chloe, Ethan told me as soon as you sign the divorce papers, we're going straight to city hall to get our license."
"The doctor says the baby is perfectly healthy. It's a boy."
"Thanks for taking care of Ethan all these years. From now on, you can leave him to me."
My knees gave out, and I slumped back against the cold bathroom vanity.
Every ounce of strength drained from my limbs. My nose stung, and tears instantly blurred my vision.
Years of love, patience, and sacrifice, reduced to a pathetic joke.
I was never his partner; I was just the unwanted third wheel, the roadblock standing in the way of their picture-perfect romance.
A wave of crushing betrayal swallowed me whole. I bit my lower lip hard, fighting with everything in me to choke back the sob rising in my throat.
Right then, my decision was set in stone.
I was done. No more fighting, no more second chances, and no more wasting my life on a man who never valued me.
The door clicked open, and Ethan stepped out, drying his damp hair with a towel.
Seeing me standing pale and teary-eyed in front of the mirror, he paused, then quickly crossed the room to wrap his arms around me.
"Why are you crying? Babe, are you hurting somewhere?"
I jerked away, evading his embrace.
His hands hung awkwardly in empty air.
"Chloe, what is it now?" A thread of annoyance finally seeped through his gentle facade.
I looked up, catching our reflection in the mirror.
He was wearing the loungewear I had bought him, smelling like the body wash I had picked out, with my late father's custom watch resting on his wrist.
Yet his heart belonged to someone else.
"Ethan, Maya is pregnant."
My voice was barely a whisper, as though I were casually mentioning the weather.Ethan's face drained of color in an instant.
He lunged forward, grabbing my wrists with desperate force, terrified that I was about to slip away.
"Chloe, let me explain! That—that was an accident!"
An accident?
The word bounced around in my head, sounding utterly ridiculous.
"Ethan, the night I miscarried... where were you?"
His entire body turned to stone.
"What? Miscarriage...?"
Watching the sheer shock written across his face only made me feel sick with irony.
My tone stayed deadly calm, light as air:
"That night you were supposed to be having an episode, supposedly unconscious in our bed."
"I was home alone and took a bad fall down the stairs."
"Just like that, our baby was gone. Slipped away before I could even hold onto it."
Every syllable fell softly, carrying zero dramatics, but each word drove like a dagger straight into his chest.
All the color vanished from Ethan's face, his pupils shrinking in horror.
Panic wrecked his composure, his breathing ragged as his trembling hands clamped onto my wrists.
"What... what are you talking about?! When did this happen?! Why didn't you tell me?!"
I shoved his hands off me.
"Because lying to me is the only thing you ever cared about."
Ethan lunged again, pulling me tight against his chest, refusing to let go.
"No, Chloe, please listen to me! I never wanted to hurt you, I swear—"
Tears spilled over my cheeks against my will.
I stood completely numb in his tight grip, offering him not an ounce of warmth or reaction.
A sudden, sharp ringtone shattered the silence.
His phone buzzed aggressively, call after call demanding an answer.
Ethan loosened his grip.
I glanced down and caught the caller ID: Maya.
The second the call connected, Maya's tearful wail cut through the receiver:
"Ethan, my stomach hurts so bad... Please come back, our baby..."
The line clicked dead.
Looking at the sheer terror written across his features, every trace of his remorse from seconds ago evaporated into thin air.
"Maya's pregnant, Chloe. I—I have to make sure nothing happens to her."
That was the moment I knew for certain.
This man was gone. He didn't belong to me, and he never would again.
He didn't give a damn about me. Maybe he never had.
"Go," I said coldly, my expression blank.
"Wait for me to get back. I'll explain everything, I promise!"
Before I could even speak, he turned and bolted out the front door.
That desperate, panicked look on his face was something I hadn't seen directed at me in years.
My phone screen lit up on the nightstand.
I looked down. My corporate relocation request to the London branch had been officially approved.
My flight was tomorrow morning.
An explanation wasn't necessary.
I knew deep down we would never see each other again.
Three days after I left.
On his way home, Ethan drove all the way across town just to pick up a box of artisanal donuts from my favorite bakery.
The line at that shop always took forever.
Whenever we got into an argument, no matter how bad things turned, the moment he walked in with that signature pink box, I would always soften up and forgive him.
He was counting on it working this time, too.
When he stepped through the front door, the entryway was pitch-black.
In the past, no matter how late he stayed out, I always left a warm porch light on for him.
Ethan frowned.
"Chloe?"
The silence inside the apartment was deafening.
An uneasy knot tightened in his gut, sparking a sudden wave of irritation.
Tossing the box of donuts onto the kitchen counter, he marched toward the master bedroom.
He shoved the door open, and his eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Half of the closet was completely cleared out.
The skincare bottles on the vanity were gone.
Left behind on the dresser was a document weighted down by a single diamond wedding band.
It was an executed divorce agreement.
My signature was already inked neatly at the bottom.
Ethan's fingers violently jerked, and the papers slipped from his grasp, fluttering onto the floor.
"No way... This can't be happening..."
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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