The Wife He Took for Granted

Chapter 5

Ethan was leading Lila upstairs, his arm possessively around her waist. As they passed Elena, he dropped the words like ice cubes. "Lila's got no place to go right now. She'll crash here for a bit."

"Stay out of her way. No drama."

Lila cowered behind him like a scared kitten, peering out with just one wide eye to inspect the second floor.

When they reached the guest room, she suddenly clutched at Ethan's sleeve. "Mr. Hale... I don't... don't want this room," she whispered.

He turned, eyebrow arched. "What's wrong with it?"

"The window faces that creepy alley. It's so dark at night." She nibbled her lower lip, then pointed a delicate finger toward the master suite. "Could I... maybe stay there instead? It's so sunny, and I get scared easily. I need light to sleep."

Elena saw red.

That south-facing master suite? Every damn tile had been laid by her hands. Every pillow fluffed, every curtain hung—she'd poured her soul into that room.

"In your dreams!" The words tore from her throat, raw with fever.

But when Ethan moved to block Lila,like she was some fragile thing needing protection—Elena's rage turned to icy sarcasm. "Oh by all means, give her the master suite," she drawled.

Ethan froze, eyeing her like she'd grown a second head.

"Wouldn't want your delicate flower 'suffering' in the guest room. Then it'd be my fault for being the wicked stepmother."

"About time you showed some sense." He completely missed the poison in her words. Turning back to Lila, his voice went butter-soft. "Come on, sweetheart. Master bedroom it is."

Lila ducked her head—but not fast enough to hide the triumphant smirk she shot Elena.

Elena kicked herself for taking the bait. Still, at least this meant thirty days of not sharing a bed with Ethan during their divorce cooling-off period.

Jaw clenched, she dragged her fever-racked body to the guest room, choked down some pills, and passed out until evening.

Then—yank—the blankets were ripped away.

"Up. Now."

He pressed a cold key into her palm. "Lila's bracelet is at the hospital. Go get it." Elena's head throbbed, her feverish body heavy and unresponsive. "Why me?" she croaked. "She's having an allergic reacion," Ethan snapped. "No idea what she got into, but she's coughing nonstop. I need to stay with her."

His voice hardened. "That bracelet was her mother's heirloom. It needs to be back tonight—and you're going." "I'm burning up with fever, and my ankle's still swollen—I can barely stand!" Elena strained to pull away, each word an effort. Ethan stiffened, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.

Yesterday's collapse still lingered in his mind—her limp body, the frantic hospital trip. Just as relief began to loosen Elena's chest, light footsteps interrupted. Lila hovered in the doorway, eyes puffy and red, cheeks blotchy with fake distress. "Mr. Hale, please... the bracelet can wait. Mrs. Hale is so ill." She dabbed at her eyes. "It's my fault. Elena has always been stronger than me, just like you say. This fever must be awful for her. I'm just a burden." "It's fine," Ethan murmured, his tone softening for her. But when he turned back to Elena, all hesitation vanished. His voice dropped, low and final. "Enough excuses. Go. Now."

The ice returned. "Remember when your classmates locked you in that bathroom, drenched you in freezing water? Half the night, and not even a sniffle. Or how you slaved away in the orphanage? Tough as nails, aren't you? You'll survive." Elena's fists clenched until her nails drew blood. The scars he'd once kissed with pity were now knives in his hands. She met his icy stare, then caught it—the corner of Lila's mouth twitched up, just for a second. A laugh burst from her lips—raw, humorless. What else was left to do?

"Fine."

Let’s call it even... For all those times he’d shielded her, for the warmth of his promise, "I’ll protect you from now on."

None of it mattered now. The divorce papers were signed—soon, they’d be nothing to each other.

Rain hammered down as the car pulled up to the hospital.

Icy water soaked through her trousers the moment she stepped out. Clutching her coat, she trudged inside and rummaged through the locker room until her fingers went numb—but the bracelet was nowhere.

Hands shaking, she called Ethan. "It’s not here." She whispered hoarsely.

A pause. Then Lila’s tearful voice wavered over the phone: "Mr. Hale... Could I have dropped it on the way to the cafeteria? I’m so careless."

"We’ll find it. Stop crying," came his reply—soft in a way he never was with her.

"Check the path to the cafeteria. And don’t you dare come back empty-handed."

Elena limped forward, every step agony in her swollen ankle. Hunched over, she fumbled along the wet pavement, her vision swimming.

She stumbled, nearly falling more than once. Just as her vision blurred, her fingers brushed something cold—a bracelet, crusted with mud and grass.

She collapsed into the muddy water, fingers tightening around the bracelet like a lifeline—or a curse.