- 2.
The party ended, Ethan carried me to the car.
“Amelia’s asleep,” he murmured to the driver.
“Drive carefully.” Still attentive, still caring. He
even nuzzled my cheek as I “slept.”
I leaned against him, memories flashing through
my mind. Years ago, Mark, my childhood
sweetheart, had left me at the altar. Overnight, I
became the town’s gossip. That’s when Ethan
appeared, offering marriage and a chance to
escape the humiliation. He needed a stable,
suitable wife to secure his position in the family
business, and I, heartbroken and disillusioned,
agreed. He gave me a lavish wedding, fireworks
illuminating the skyline. I’d vowed to never love
again, but his constant affection chipped away
at my defenses. Now, I realized the honey-
<
sweet jar I thought I was immersed in was
actually filled with poison.
“Ethan,” I mumbled, pretending to wake up.
He instantly adjusted my position, settling me
comfortably against his shoulder. “Honey,
feeling rough after all that champagne? I’ll
make you some ginger tea when we get home.”
I looped my arm around his, my voice sugary
sweet. “Just happy.” Acting. He, an amateur,
had managed it for seven years. So could I, a
trained actress.
Ethan lapped it up, kissing my forehead. “I have
a new project coming up, might not be able to
visit you on set as often. Take care of yourself,
okay?”
“I will,” I replied, my voice soft. “And I’ll make
sure I eat all my meals.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, his hand squeezing
my waist suggestively.
I suppressed a shudder, twisting away. “Stop it,
that tickles.”
