Chapter 2

784 Words
That evening, Ethan and Alina walked in, turning on the living room light, only to be startled by a figure on the sofa. Alina recovered first. "Cecilia? What the hell are you doing? Sitting here in the dark like some ghost—are you trying to scare us?" Cecilia's gaze locked onto Alina. "You said you were too afraid to show your face outside." Alina's eyes darted away. "It's none of your damn business!" With that, she bolted upstairs without looking back. Ethan stepped forward stiffly. "I took Alina to see a therapist today." "You probably should. She was on the rooftop again today, saying she wants Serena as your wife." Ethan's brow furrowed impatiently. "After what she suffered, she's fragile. Can't you show some patience?" "Patience?" Cecilia sprang to her feet. "How much more patience? She treats me like a servant, makes me slap myself or kneel to apologize… I—" Ethan's face turned ashen as he cut her off. "Enough! You know who's responsible for her being like this!" Cecilia's nails dug into her palms. Two years ago, that evening, they had just parked at the restaurant. Alina had texted, demanding Ethan pick her up from school. Cecilia laced her fingers through his, leaning in to brush a kiss against his throat, her voice tender. "It's my birthday… Couldn't you stay with me just this once?" After a pause, Ethan nodded. "Alright." But before they could exit the car, Alina's call came through. "Let me talk to her." As Ethan reached for his phone, Cecilia snatched it and powered it off, seething. "She always finds a way to drag you away. She's grown. You should stop babysitting her! Am I always second to her?" Ethan looked at her and finally sighed. "Our parents died young, leaving just the two of us. I… maybe I've been too hard on her." In the middle of dinner, the driver burst in, frantic. "Sir! Ms. Jones… She's been kidn*pped!" It wasn't until the next day that Ethan found Alina in an abandoned warehouse. She had spent the entire night being tortured by their family's enemies. Her body was covered in wounds, her eyes vacant. "Yes, it's all my fault she ended up like this…" Cecilia's voice was hoarse. "But for two years, I've slaved away taking care of her while she trampled on my dignity! Am I supposed to endure this forever?" Ethan hesitated, avoiding her gaze. "The therapist insists Alina needs calm reassurance now, so… Serena's moving in tomorrow." "What?" Cecilia stared in shock. "Once she's better, I'll have Serena move out," Ethan promised quickly. Cecilia looked at him, voice sharp. "Ethan, I went to the clerk's office today." Ethan froze, fingers tightening involuntarily. "They said our divorce went through." She smiled, tears streaking her face. "So you'd planned this all along, waiting until I was out of Serena's way." Ethan seized her arm urgently. "It's not like that! Alina put a knife to her own throat. What was I supposed to do? Cecilia, please. Once she's better, we'll set the papers straight. After that, I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Okay?" "Put a knife to her throat?" Cecilia wrenched free, voice cracking like a whip. "How many suicide threats will it take? You always cave to her ultimatums!" Ethan's temper flared, veins throbbing at his temples. "She's my sister! My only family! I can't risk it. I can't afford to!" "Cecilia, why do you always push me? Do you have any idea how hard it is to be stuck between you two? Can't you show some understanding for once?" Cecilia looked at him, seeing the accusation blazing in his eyes, and thought, 'Haven't I shown enough understanding?' During their first meeting, Alina had pushed her into a pool right in front of Ethan, who had just said, "I've spoiled Alina. She's just a child. Cut her some slack." On their wedding day, Alina had skipped the ceremony and locked all the villa doors, leaving Cecilia freezing in her wedding dress outside for half an hour. They ended up spending the night in a hotel. Ethan had apologized again. "I'm sorry. Give it time, she'll accept you." Afterward, Alina vented on Cecilia daily, throwing fits whenever she wasn't around. Red-eyed, Ethan had begged, "Just help me out. It won't take long…" Every single time, Cecilia endured. But now, she was done. "I'm tired, Ethan." He immediately pulled her into an embrace. "Cecilia, I love you." Tightening his arms, voice pleading, he whispered, "Do this for me—just hold on a little longer, okay?" Cecilia stiffened in his embrace, as if acquiescing. After all, they were already divorced. What did it matter anymore?
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