chapter 1

Ethan Quinn walked into the room just as I slipped the engagement ring off my finger and tucked it into the drawer.

Just over a month ago, we got engaged.

Hands in his pockets, he seemed to have already forgotten that I had only recently had surgery. Instead, he said flatly, “Go get cleaned up and make dinner.”

Normally, I would have stood up right away.

But this time, I did not even look at him. I kept my focus on what I was doing and ignored him completely.

Noticing my silence, Ethan raised a brow and yanked me to my feet, rough and impatient.

“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you hear me?” Ethan demanded.

He still had not noticed the ring was gone.

He frowned slightly, his tone turning cold and commanding. “Yvonne just got back a few days ago. The housekeeper’s off tonight. Make some of your signature dishes for her to try.”

He continued, “My parents treat her like their own daughter. You should be nicer to her, too.”

I glanced at him coolly, my expression unreadable.

Ethan looked a little surprised because I had never acted like this before.

Back then, whenever they asked me to cook, I would always try to butter them up by asking what they were in the mood for.

But this time, I just did not care.

Ethan stared at me for a moment, then let out a short, mocking laugh like he finally understood. “What, are you afraid Yvonne’s going to steal me away? I see her as a little sister, so don’t go picking on her, alright?”

We stood face to face. He kept his eyes on me, as if expecting me to drop whatever bad attitude he thought I had.

It was not until he noticed my slightly red eyes that the blame in his gaze eased, just a little.

After a pause, he finally spoke. “Yvonne has been overseas for seven years. It wasn’t easy for her to come back. Can’t you cut her some slack?”

“I know you’re still hung up on the surgery,” he said. “But it was just a vocal cord operation. What’s the big deal? You’re alive, aren’t you?”

I did not say a word. Instead, I walked into the kitchen and quietly started rinsing and prepping the vegetables.

In Ethan’s eyes, my surgery would never matter as much as Yvonne Lynn’s birthday.

What he did not know was how afraid I had been, and how I had secretly hoped, against all odds, that everything might turn out okay.

My vocal cords were severely damaged due to both physiological and psychological reasons, even developed an abnormal growth.

But I knew Ethan used to love hearing me sing. That’s why I took the risk and decided to go through with the surgery, hoping I could fix what was broken, even though the doctor said I would probably never sound the same again.

I naively believed he would stay with me, help me get through everything, and once again listen to me sing just for him.

But in the end, all I got was bitter disappointment.

Before the surgery, he did not even show up. Not a single family member was there either.

What am I to him, really?

I lay alone on the cold, sterile operating table, drifting off as the anesthesia slowly numbed my body. Not a single familiar face was waiting for me outside. Not even the faintest comfort.

A few years ago, I lost both of my parents in an accident. Since then, I have had nowhere to turn, no safe harbor, no one to lean on.

After I woke up, I checked Yvonne’s Facebook. Just as I thought, she had a new post.

A photo from a glittering banquet hall, holding a bouquet of fresh flowers, with gifts piled beside her.

The same post included a caption, "Feeling so lucky to celebrate my birthday with Ethan and his parents!"

After the surgery, the doctor gently asked if I needed help contacting any family members.

I stared at Yvonne’s post, shaking my head with a bitter smile. Under the harsh lights of the hospital room, my face looked even more drained and pale.

No one knew that the first thing I did when I woke up was call Ethan.

I asked him why he did not come.

He replied, “It’s just a minor thing, why make such a fuss?”