Chapter 2

Ethan paused, the towel in his hand frozen midair.

Only moments ago, in bed, she had looked at him with those same tear-filled eyes, repeating his name again and again.

He frowned and walked to the bedside, looking down at her. “What? Did I hurt you?”

He was clearly concerned, yet his tone was still so cold.

Christina could understand. After all, their marriage had never had any emotional foundation.

Over the past three years, he had at least preserved her dignity in front of others, but the bitterness had never faded.

The light in Christina’s eyes dimmed bit by bit. She forced a smile. “No... don’t worry.”

“Good.” Ethan turned to leave. “There’s medicine in the cabinet. If you’re uncomfortable, take care of it yourself.”

“Ethan...” Christina, unsure where the sudden courage came from, turned and hugged him tightly from behind.

She pressed her face against his cool back, drawing what little warmth she could from his body.

Ethan’s body stiffened. He reached back to pry her hands away. “Let go. I need to handle some work in the study.”

“Wait, just for a moment,” Christina pleaded, her voice trembling. “You’ve been away on business overseas all month. I missed you so much... Could you maybe travel less? I want you home with me.”

Ethan stopped moving and let out a cold laugh. “The Carter Group supports the Reed family. If I don’t work, how am I supposed to keep you all afloat?”

Christina’s cheeks burned, yet she held on even tighter. “Then... can we have a baby? Grandma’s been hoping for a great-grandchild, and I want one too...”

“Christina.” Ethan’s voice suddenly turned ice-cold.

He mercilessly peeled her fingers away and turned around, his eyes frigid. “Remember your place. If you’ve forgotten, I don’t mind reminding you how you became Mrs. Carter.”

Christina’s face went deathly pale, and her whole body turned cold.

Ethan’s tone was harsh. “Before I agree to it, don’t even think about using a child to tie me down. The Carter family’s heir won’t come from the belly of a woman who used tricks.”

Without another word, he ignored her pleading eyes, grabbed his shirt from nearby, and slipped it on. “Sleep alone. I’ll take the study.”

“Ethan...” The door closed, cutting off her call.

Christina stayed rooted in place, arms half outstretched, her gaze fixed on the tightly shut door as tears finally streamed down her face.

The following morning, sunlight cut harshly through the room.

When Christina woke, the space beside her was already cold, as if that man had never been there at all the night before.

“Mrs. Carter, are you awake?” The maid, Uma, pushed the door open, carrying a glass of warm water and a white pill.

At the sight of that pill, Christina’s pupils contracted.

“Mr. Carter instructed me... to make sure you take it.” Uma handed her the water and pill, her eyes holding a trace of sympathy, though there was more contempt than pity.

Christina swallowed the pill, tilting her head back and forcing down the bitter medicine. Clearly, Ethan was truly worried she might become pregnant with his child.

“Where’s Ethan?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Mr. Carter left for the office before dawn. Said there was an issue with a project,” Uma said with a sigh, straightening the rumpled bed. “If you ask me, marriage only works when both people love each other. Mrs. Carter, don’t think I’m speaking out of turn, but a forced relationship is never sweet. It only leaves bitterness behind. Look at you and Mr. Carter—it’s been years, and he’s still so cold to you...”

Uma shook out the sheets and muttered, “This trophy wife position—even if you forced your way into it—is hard to keep. Back when Mr. Carter was with Ms. Cooper, now that was a perfect match...”

Christina’s grip on the water glass tightened. “Uma, I’d like to rest a bit more.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop.” Uma pursed her lips, then turned back at the door. “Oh, and Mrs. Amelia Carter called personally to say there’s a family dinner at Carter Manor this evening. She wants you to dress properly and not embarrass Mr. Carter.”

The door closed. Christina’s body went limp as she sank onto the bed.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Taking a steadying breath, Christina answered, “Vivian.”

“Christina, have you seen the news online?” Vivian Martinez’s voice snapped with anger.

“What news?”

“That bastard Ethan! Did he tell you he was going to Novaria on a business trip?”

Christina’s heart sank. “Yes...”

“Bullshit! Take a look at the photos I sent on WhatsApp!”

Christina’s hands shook as she opened the app, revealing a series of images set against picturesque foreign streets.

In the photos, the man who had been so cold to her last night was gently brushing hair from a woman’s face, his expression filled with a tenderness Christina had never seen.

The woman smiled warmly—it was Ethan’s first love, Emily.

“They’ve been together... this whole month?” Christina felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Vivian swore angrily over the phone. “That conniving Emily had an art exhibition in Novaria, and Ethan went there just to spend an entire month with her! Christina, he’s been acting all cold in front of you for years, then turns around and plays the devoted lover to his first love. What does he think you are?”

Christina stared at the photo of the perfect couple, her chest aching. “Vivian, you know the reason I became Ethan’s wife wasn’t exactly honorable.”

“What are you talking about?” Vivian’s voice rose. “You saved Elizabeth at that exhibition! You’ve spent three years caring for him like a servant! Being framed wasn’t your fault! Christina, can’t you stand up for yourself?”

Christina tried to smile, but couldn’t.

The midday sun fell across Christina’s worktable.

The air was filled with the scent of pencil shavings and paper, smells that usually calmed her.

Christina, renowned for her cool, minimalist designs as the founder of “Lanthera,” found her pencil moving in erratic, restless strokes today.

The wastebasket was already full of crumpled sketches.

No matter how she drew, the lines always ended up forming that man’s stern profile, or the radiant smiles from those photos.

Christina put down her pencil and rubbed her temples tiredly.

A sudden pang in her stomach reminded her that, since last night, she had eaten almost nothing except that bitter contraceptive pill.

She got up and headed downstairs. Just as she reached the staircase, she saw Uma carrying a food container and hurrying toward the door.

“Uma,” Christina called.

Uma stopped and turned, giving Christina a perfunctory glance from the stairs. “Mrs. Carter, what do you need? I’m in a rush.”

Christina’s gaze fell on the food container. She asked softly, “Are you taking lunch to Ethan?”

“Yes.” Uma smoothed down her clothes, her voice tinged with pride. “Mr. Carter has a delicate stomach and is very particular. He won’t eat food from outside.”

Of course, Christina knew Ethan had stomach problems.

When they first got married, she had been determined to be a good wife, hoping to win him over little by little.

She had specifically enrolled in cooking classes and learned to cook well.

Brimming with anticipation, she had carried a thermal lunch box to the Carter Group, only to be stopped by Ethan at the entrance to the executive office.

Ethan didn’t even glance at the lunch box. In front of all the employees and assistants gathered in the hallway, he flicked his hand and sent the container clattering to the floor.

The steaming food spilled everywhere—food she had spent four whole hours preparing.