She Took My Place, I’ll Ruin Her Completely

Chapter 2

Walking into Lily's room, I found closets stuffed with designer handbags.

I glanced at Ethan working at his computer, and something in my chest tightened. As far as I knew, Lily had no job, and for three years of marriage she'd been entirely supported by Ethan.

But Ethan hadn't started out this poor. He'd been burned by a friend in a business deal, gone bankrupt, and come out owing $150,000.

I called out from the room. "Honey, how much do we still owe?"

He went still, like he hadn't expected me to call him that. The tips of his ears went red; he ducked his head and tapped a couple of random keys. "Just three thousand." After a beat, he added, "Lily, give me one more month. In a month I'll have it paid off. Then things won't be so tight."

I stood there stunned, looking back at those closets of bags—worth two, three hundred thousand at least. In just three years, under crushing pressure and Lily's reckless spending, Ethan had nearly cleared the debt.

Staring at his slightly red ears, my throat went tight.

Back then, to keep up appearances, Chase had given me piles of designer clothes. But every single time, he'd remind me, over and over, "Claire, if you hadn't married me, you'd never have laid eyes on any of this in your life. So why act so high and mighty? The way I see it, you're no different from the w****s out on the street."

I pulled my eyes away and looked again at the closets full of bags.

Lily, you really are a fool.

After I listed all the bags on a resale site, I soon got a strange message.

Buyer: Is this you in the photo?

The photo they pointed to was clearly the one of Ethan I'd just uploaded.

I froze. I'd listed so much at once, and hadn't wanted to use my own name, so I'd put down Ethan's info.

Claire: Yes, is there a problem?

The reply came fast.

Buyer: What's your name? Who are your parents?

I frowned. Who is this?

A few more messages came in.

Buyer: Sorry, I don't mean any harm. It's just that your features look a lot like the child my employers lost twenty years ago—their son's boy.

Buyer: If your family situation is normal, I won't bother you again.

Buyer: But if it's convenient, could you make time for a paternity test?

I twisted my mouth. Come on—this dramatic?

After talking it over with Ethan and agreeing to the test, the buyer bought up every luxury item I'd listed in one shot. Didn't haggle once. I walked away with a clean $120,000.

But then I turned and caught the sulky look on Ethan's face.

"Lily… are you going to divorce me?"

"Huh?"

"You sold all the bags and jewelry I gave you. You don't want me anymore?" His voice shook a little.

This six-foot-something man somehow looked exactly like a golden retriever about to be dropped off at the pound.

My heart went soft, and I couldn't help reaching up to ruffle his hair. "No, honey. I just realized I don't like this stuff anymore. Compared to the bags you gave me, I'd rather have cash now."

The doubt still hadn't left his face, so I quickly pulled that necklace out of my pocket, cupped it in my palm, and held it out to him. "I didn't sell this one."

He lowered his head and looked at the necklace, saying nothing.

I pushed it a little closer. "Ethan, I used to be reckless and immature about money. Not anymore. Once this cash comes through, first thing we do is cover the three thousand you've got left."

He looked up, his eyes a little red. "Lily, a husband spending money on his wife is just how it should be. That's not immaturity…"