I didn't wake up last night to see if Ethan had come home.

All I know is that the next morning, he messaged me as usual: "Darling, remember to bring the soup at noon."

When we were kids, my family and the Montgomerys were neighbors. Ethan's favorite thing was the soup my mom made. But later, my mom passed away.

Ethan was heartbroken, and also regretted that he could never have that soup again.

Maybe it's in my genes, but I, who had never cooked before, practiced for two months and managed to make a soup that tasted just like hers.

After that, Ethan asked me to bring him soup once a week. Because I loved him, I was happy to do it. I kept this up for three years without fail.

I didn't want to respond, but it wasn't time to burn bridges yet, so I just replied "Okay."

When I got to the Montgomery house, I went straight up to the top floor. Ethan was still in a meeting, so I left the soup on the table and went to the bathroom.

The staff were used to seeing me there, but things had been awkward since the birthday party incident. On my way back, I overheard them whispering."Poor Mrs. Montgomery, a high-society debutante, still having to make soup every week to please Mr. Montgomery. If it weren't for what happened to the Carlisle Estate..."

"Men are all the same, always chasing skirts on the side."

"You can't say that. If I were Mr. Montgomery, I'd choose Melody too. After all, she's so young and fresh you could squeeze the juice out of her."

"But no matter how much Mr. Montgomery likes Melody, he shouldn't make his wife cook soup for her."

Hearing this, I froze.

Seeing me return, they fell silent in unison.

The meeting had ended. I pushed open the door to Ethan's office to find him still working at his computer, while Melody was perched on his desk, sipping the soup I had brought.

"I must say, Scarlett's cooking is as excellent as ever."

"Oh, you like it? I'll have her keep making it for you. I'm tired of it anyway."

Noticing my entrance, Melody flashed me a challenging smile, but said nothing and didn't move.

"Little glutton, why so quiet?"

After a long silence, Ethan finally looked up from his computer and noticed me at the door.His face stiffened, but before he could speak, Melody quickly put down the bowl of soup.

"Scarlett, it's all my fault. I smelled the delicious ribs from far away and couldn't resist, so I begged Mr. Montgomery to let me have a taste."

Before she could finish, tears welled up in her eyes. "Scarlett, I'm so sorry. Please don't be angry. You can slap me if you want."

As she prepared to slap her own face, Ethan quickly grabbed her hand.

"It's not a big deal. It's just a bowl of soup."

"Just a bowl of soup? Ethan, I went to the farmer's market early this morning and spent two hours making this soup. Was it meant for her?"

"What difference does it make who drinks it? Besides, why can't she have any? She's been drinking it for a year now."

I couldn't listen anymore. I walked up and threw the bowl of soup directly in Melody's face.

"There. Drink your fill."

Melody screamed, and a crowd of onlookers gathered at the office door.

Ethan was shaking with anger as he approached me.

"pa!"

The entire floor fell silent.

Only then did he realize what he had done. Looking at his own hand, he shouted "Get out!" at the crowd, and the onlookers quickly dispersed.He closed the door and looked at my face, full of guilt. "Scarlett, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you, I just—"

"Ethan, you hit me over some stranger?"

"She already apologized to you. Why did you still throw soup at her? It was just a bowl of soup."

I lowered my head and mumbled, "Yeah, just a bowl of soup."

With that, I left, sporting a bright red handprint on my face.

Watching me leave, he felt a bit panicked. But then he remembered how I had caused a scene in his office, making him lose face completely.

His anger flared up again, and he shouted at my retreating back, "Scarlett, if you walk out this time, don't bother coming back!"

My parents have passed away, and I have no other family here. I wandered aimlessly for a day.

As night fell, I found a hotel, determined not to go back tonight.

In the evening, Ethan updated his social media.

In the dim lights of a karaoke bar, Melody sat on his lap, leaning against his neck, whispering in his ear.

The caption read: "A woman should be gentle and sweet."

I casually liked the post, then turned off my phone.

I told myself not to be sad, but in the darkness, tears flowed involuntarily.

In the dead of night, I was awakened by a series of urgent rings.

The caller ID showed Ethan, and the time was 1 AM.

I hung up, but he kept calling persistently. Annoyed, I answered: "Ethan, what do you want in the middle of the night?"

"So you know it's the middle of the night? Let me ask you, what's a married woman doing out so late?"

"Weren't you the one who told me not to come back?"

He choked, then awkwardly said: "It's not safe for you to be out alone. Tell me your address. I'll come get you, or I'll keep looking for you all night."

To avoid unnecessary trouble, I gave him the address.

He replied "Wait for me," then hung up.Ethan quickly rushed over. On the way back, neither of us spoke.

In the silence, his ringtone sounded. Since he was driving, he put it on speakerphone.

"Mr. Montgomery, it seems like someone's knocking at my door. I'm home alone and I'm really scared. Could you come keep me company?"

Melody's voice dripped with seduction, without a trace of fear.

I couldn't hold back and spoke up: "Shouldn't you be calling the police?"

Melody seemed to realize only then that I was there. She responded with a slight tremor in her voice: "I'm sorry, I was thoughtless. I didn't mean to bother you two."

She hung up immediately after speaking.

The car, which had been speeding along just moments ago, came to an abrupt stop.

"Get out."

I looked at Ethan in disbelief. On a deserted road, close to 2 AM, he was telling me to get out.

Without another word, he walked around to the passenger side, unbuckled my seatbelt, and dragged me out of the car.

I was thrown onto a flowerbed by the roadside, instantly bruising my calf.

But Ethan paid no attention. With a whoosh, his car was gone.

My wallet and phone were still in his car.

Pushing down the bitterness in my heart, I rubbed my arms, held back my tears, and limped my way home.