The Wife He Couldn't Erase

Chapter 5

One week.

Seven days since I handed Ethan Ashworth the video and walked out of Ashworth Villa without looking back.

Seven days of pretending my hands didn’t shake every time my phone buzzed. Seven days of telling myself I made the right choice when I refused to go to the police station or meet the chairman.

He doesn’t need me. I need this job. I need to stay invisible.

The video is gone from my phone now. I’d transferred it to Ethan in the villa driveway.

“Let me take you to the station,” Ethan had said, his ice-blue eyes locked on me like I might disappear. “The chairman would definitely wants to thank you personally.”

“I’m not the hero here,” I whispered, stepping back. “And I don’t want to be the scapegoat when this blows up.”

He didn’t let it go. He tried. Please. Just your name. Just your contact.

I refused. Every time.

“Don’t look for me,” I told him finally, my voice cracking. “If they find me, they’ll find a way to pin it on me. I have a baby to protect.”

Ethan stared at me for a long time. Then he nodded. Once. “Fine. But if you need anything—”

“I don’t,” I cut him off. And I walked away. Never to be seen again by him or anything Ashworth.

___

It was 11:42am at 24/7 Corner Mart and the AC was broken again.

I was scanning a pack of gum when the bell above the door jingled. It was the sound of rich people. That heavy, expensive door that didn’t slam.

I didn’t look up.

“Card or cash?” I asked automatically, eyes on the register.

The store went quiet.

Too quiet.

I risked a glance up and my blood froze.

A black Maybach was parked right in front of the glass doors, blocking the handicapped spot. The driver’s door opened and Ethan stepped out.

He looked out of place here like a diamond in a trash bin. Tailored gray suit. No tie. Sleeves rolled up just enough to show the watch that probably cost more than my annual earn.

His dark brown hair was messy like he’d been running his hands through it all morning. And those ice-blue eyes… They swept across the store like he was assessing a crime scene.

Young girls by the snack aisle dropped their sodas. One of them actually squealed.

“Is that… is that Ethan Ashworth?!”

“The Ashworth Group CFO?!”

“Why is he here?!”

I ducked my head lower and focused on the customer in front of me. A college girl with pink hair and a Red Bull in her hand.

“Card or cash?” I said again, louder this time.

She wasn’t listening. She was staring past me at Ethan like he was a celebrity.

“Hey!” I snapped, a little harsher than I meant to. “Card or cash?”

She blinked. “Oh. Card.”

Ethan ignored everyone. He walked straight toward my register. “Excuse me, please.”

The pink-haired girl stepped back without being told, her mouth hanging open. “Oh my God… he’s talking to me—”

“No,” Ethan said, voice calm but cutting through the noise. “I need to speak with her.” He nodded at me.

My chest tightened. He recognizes me.

I kept my eyes on the screen.

Ethan leaned against the counter. The scent of cedar and rain followed him. “It’s you. The one who recorded the video?”

I forced a laugh. It sounded fake even to me. “I don’t know what video you’re talking about. I'm an attendant here. That’s it.”

He didn’t blink. “Are you the one who saved my grandfather?”

My hands froze over the card reader. Don’t answer. Don’t look up. He can’t prove anything.

“No,” I said flatly. “Now if you’re not buying anything, please step back so I can attend to the next customer.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “The old man wants to see you.”

“I don’t care,” I shot back, finally looking up. My eyes were hard. “If the manager comes out and sees me talking instead of working, I’ll lose this job. And this job is the only thing keeping me and my baby alive right now. So please… go away.”

For a second, something flashed in Ethan’s eyes. Guilt? Regret? I didn’t wait to find out.

He stepped back, phone already to his ear. “I tried.”

The door chimed again as he walked out.

I let out a breath.

In less than a minute later, the office door slammed open and Manager Ruiz stormed out, tie loosened, face red.

“Lyara!” He barked. “You ignoring customers now? That man looked like he was worth millions and you just—”

“I was trying to work—” I started.

“Save it.” He cut me off, then turned to the store and raised his voice. “Everyone! Everything you buy today is on Mr. Ethan Ashworth!”

The store erupted.

Customers who’d been paying dropped their items and ran back to the shelves. A teenager grabbed three boxes of cereal. An old woman loaded her cart with bottled water.

“Ethan Ashworth paid in advance!” Ruiz shouted again, smiling like he’d won the lottery. “Stock up! It’s free!”

I stared at him. “You can’t just—”

“I can, and I did,” he said, then his voice softened as he walked behind my counter. “Lyara, take a break. Go talk to him.”

“What? No—”

“He already transferred enough to cover your shift,” Ruiz said, gently pushing me toward the door. “I’ll run register. You go. And Lyara… thank you.”

I stopped. “For what?”

Ruiz smiled, small and real for the first time. “For whatever you did to bring that man here. Sales have been down 30% this month. Today? We’re gonna break a record.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

I pulled it out. The screen lit up with a bank notification.

[Deposit: $5,000. From: E. Ruiz. Memo: For your baby.]

My eyes widened. Five thousand dollars.

Ruiz saw my face and grinned. “Go. Before he changes his mind.”

I swallowed hard. Anger. Confusion. And something else I didn’t want to name; relief.

Five thousand dollars. That’s diapers. That’s prenatal vitamins. That’s two months of rent if I find a room.

I nodded once and walked out without another word.

Ethan was standing by the Maybach, phone still at his ear. When he saw me, he hung up and opened the passenger door for me.

“I’m sorry I had to do it this way,” he said quietly. “It was urgent. I couldn’t think of another way to get you here.”

I didn’t answer. I just walked around him and slid into the leather seat.

The car smelled like money and leather. The seat was warm.

I was angry at him for cornering me. But my hands were shaking for a different reason now. Five thousand dollars. My baby would have a crib. A car seat. Actual baby clothes instead of the ones from the charity box.

Ethan slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The car moved smoothly onto the street.

I stared out the window, arms crossed. “Where are we going? It better not be Ashworth Villa.”

“It’s not,” Ethan said. “We’re going to MedStar Hospital.”

I frowned. “Why? I don’t have an appointment—”

“The chairman was diagnosed with stage four cancer three months ago,” Ethan said, his voice low. “It’s in the final stage now. He has a few days left.”

My heart stopped.

“He’s been asking for you every day,” Ethan continued. “Meeting you was his dying wish. That’s why I was so desperate.”

The anger drained out of me like water. I stared at him, eyes wide. “Cancer… a few days?”

Ethan nodded. “He doesn’t have time, Lyara.”

I looked down at my hands. They were trembling again. Not from fear this time.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know.”

Ethan opened his mouth, but I stopped him. “We should be at his side already. Drive faster.”

Ethan stepped on the gas.

The hospital was thirty five minutes away. Thirty five minutes of silence. Thirty five minutes of me trying not to think about what it meant to face a dying man.

The car pulled into the hospital entrance.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

That’s when it hit me.

A sharp, cramping pain in my lower abdomen. Like someone twisting a knife.

“Ah—” The sound tore out of me before I could stop it.

The world went blurry. The hospital entrance spun.

“Lyara?” Ethan’s voice sounded far away.

I reached for the door but my legs gave out. I was falling—

Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.

Ethan’s face was pale. Panic in his eyes.

“Lyara!” He shouted, scooping me up into his arms. “Stay with me!”

The pain was blinding now. A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

The baby. The baby.

“Ethan…” I whispered, my vision fading. “The baby—”

“I’ve got you,” he said, already running toward the ER doors. “Don’t you dare close your eyes!”