Ten Years of Entanglement, An Empty Story

While he was in the shower, a girl sent a selfie.

“Mr. Anderson, thank you for your birthday gift.”

It was a very young girl, with delicate features, though she was dressed in expensive clothing that didn’t seem to match her age, making her appear a little awkward.

I stared at the photo for a long time until my eyes began to sting.

I had always known there was someone in Ethan’s life, but I never imagined it would be a girl like this.

Aside from the fluttering in my chest, I was also surprised by my husband’s taste.

I felt truly sorry for having seen Ethan’s secret.

Moments later, Ethan stepped out of the shower, his body still damp from the water.

“How long are you going to keep looking?”

He snatched the phone from my hand, gave me a cold look, and began getting dressed.

There was no sign of embarrassment on his face—no sign of being caught by his wife.

I knew that his confidence came from the financial power he had in our home.

After all, I was the one he kept at home. Although I having been a well-known pianist in the country before our marriage, I had now become just another housewife.

I didn’t argue about the photo. I didn’t have the right to.

Seeing that he was about to leave, I quickly spoke.

“Ethan, I need to talk to you.”

He slowly buckled his belt and glanced at me.

“I have five minutes. The driver’s waiting downstairs.”

I could guess where he was going, and my eyes darkened.

“Ethan, I want to go out and work.”

Ethan turned to look at me and studied me for a while.

Then, from his jacket pocket, he pulled out a checkbook, wrote down some numbers, tore off the page, and handed it to me.

“Isn’t being a full-time housewife better? Work isn’t really suited for you.”

With that, he began to leave. I rushed after him, lowering my posture.

“I don’t mind the hard work. I want to go out and work. I can play the piano.”

He wasn’t patient enough to hear me out. In his mind, I was just like a weak vine.

He had gotten used to taking care of me, and in his view, I wasn’t cut out to be seen or endure hardship.

Ethan glanced at his watch. Time was up.

Without a second thought, he left our home.

I couldn’t stop him. As he grabbed the door handle, I tightened my grip and asked.

“Saturday is my dad’s birthday. Do you have time?”

Ethan paused in his steps.

“Let’s see.”

The door closed softly.

A while later, I heard the sound of the car starting from downstairs, slowly fading away.

Minutes later, a maid came upstairs.

“Mr. Anderson is going to H City for a few days. He said it’s for something important.”

“Also, a batch of Mr. Anderson’s clothes has been delivered. Madam, do you want to send them to the cleaners or wash and iron them yourself?”

They knew my relationship with Ethan wasn’t close, and in this house, they were the messengers between us.

I sat on the couch, lost in thought for a while, before softly responding.

“Hand wash them.”

Because Ethan didn’t like the smell of dry-cleaning solvents.

So, all of Ethan’s clothes, including suits and coats, were almost all hand-washed and ironed by me.

Other than that, Ethan had high demands in other areas.

He didn’t like eating out, and he hated any clutter in the bedroom. So, I learned to cook and arrange flowers.

He never really placed his wife at the center of his heart. He only married me because of an accident.

I gradually became the perfect full-time wife, and my life had almost become all about Ethan.

But Ethan still didn’t love me.