Chapter 3

Ethan' s devotion to Chloe Vance became a public spectacle.

He was constantly by her side, showering her with lavish gifts, attending premieres and parties as her doting escort.

The tabloids lapped it up, splashing photos of "Finance Magnate Ethan Hayes and His Aspiring Actress Muse Chloe Vance" across their glossy pages.

Ava remained a footnote, the shadowy, neglected wife.

She saw the articles, heard the gossip from the staff. It didn' t faze her.

Her focus was elsewhere, on the subtle changes in her body, the growing life within.

One evening, there was an alumni gala for their university, NYU. Ava had initially declined to attend, but Ethan, surprisingly, insisted.

"Chloe will be there," he' d said, as if that explained everything. "It' s important for her networking."

So, Ava found herself in a glittering ballroom, a silent observer once more.

She saw Chloe across the room, holding court, Ethan a smiling statue by her side.

Eventually, their paths crossed near the alumni archives display.

Chloe, spotting Ava, gave a bright, insincere smile. "Ava! Fancy meeting you here. Ethan was just telling me how much he... enjoys these things." Her eyes flickered towards Ethan, a silent, possessive claim.

Ethan just nodded, his gaze fixed on Chloe.

"It' s... nostalgic," Ava managed, her voice barely a whisper.

Chloe, oblivious to the undercurrents, or perhaps deliberately obtuse, gestured towards a faded photograph in a display case. It showed a group of students, younger, brighter. Among them, two identical faces.

"Oh, look!" Chloe exclaimed. "Isn' t that... Caleb? Ethan' s brother? The one who...?"

She trailed off, a delicate hand flying to her mouth. "Oh, I' m so sorry, Ethan. How clumsy of me."

Then, turning to Ava, her eyes wide with feigned innocence, "He was quite the artist, wasn' t he? And didn' t he have some intense college romance? I remember hearing whispers about it back then. Someone he was completely devoted to."

Ava felt the blood drain from her face. Her breath hitched. Caleb. His romance. Their romance.

Ethan, visibly annoyed at the mention of his late brother, cut in curtly. "That was a long time ago, Chloe. Let' s get some champagne."

He steered Chloe away, leaving Ava standing alone, her heart pounding, the ghost of Caleb suddenly overwhelmingly present.

Chloe glanced back, a small, triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

Later, during the seated dinner, Ethan catered exclusively to Chloe.

He ensured her favorite wine was poured, selected dishes he knew she preferred from the curated menu, even discreetly signaled a waiter to bring her a specific brand of mineral water she favored.

Ava sat beside him, a ghost at the feast, picking at her food, the earlier mention of Caleb echoing in her mind.

The weight of her deception, her carefully constructed life, felt heavier than usual.

As the evening wore on, Ava excused herself, needing a moment of quiet.

She found a secluded alcove near the restrooms.

She heard voices from the ladies' lounge – Chloe' s distinct, slightly shrill laugh, then her voice, lower, conspiratorial.

"He' s completely wrapped around my little finger," Chloe was saying, presumably on the phone. "A few tears, a whispered plea, and he' d buy me the moon. He thinks I' m so delicate, so dependent on him. Men are such fools for a damsel in distress."

Ava froze.

Chloe continued, "As for the wife? Please. She' s a doormat. Insignificant. He barely knows she exists. Once I get this next role, and he' s set me up in that LA condo... well, let' s just say Mrs. Hayes' s days are numbered."

A cold amusement touched Ava' s lips. So, the sweet, innocent Chloe was a calculating manipulator. It wasn' t surprising.

Just then, the lounge door opened, and Chloe stepped out, phone still to her ear.

She saw Ava. Her eyes widened, then narrowed.

"How much did you hear?" Chloe hissed, ending her call abruptly.

Ava simply looked at her, her expression unreadable.

"Don' t think for a second you matter to him," Chloe spat, her voice venomous. "He' s mine. He' ll always choose me."

Ava turned to leave. She had no interest in a confrontation.

But Chloe moved quickly, blocking her path.

"You think you' re so clever, don' t you? Playing the dutiful wife."

Chloe' s heel caught on the plush carpet. Or she pretended it did.

She stumbled, grabbing onto Ava' s arm, then yelped, collapsing dramatically onto the floor just as Ethan rounded the corner.

"Ava! What the hell are you doing?" Ethan roared, rushing to Chloe' s side.

Chloe was already crying, clutching her ankle. "She pushed me, Ethan! I just tried to talk to her, and she... she pushed me!"

Ethan' s face was contorted with rage. He looked from Chloe, crumpled on the floor, to Ava, standing silently.

He didn' t ask. He didn' t hesitate.

"You bitch!" he snarled, and shoved Ava hard.

Ava, caught off guard, stumbled backward.

Behind her was a short flight of decorative marble stairs leading down to a lower landing.

She lost her footing, her arms flailing, and then she was falling, a sharp pain shooting through her back as she hit the steps.

"My baby," she gasped, clutching her stomach, terror washing over her. "Ethan, help me... the baby..."

He stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at her, his face a mask of cold fury.

"You deserved that," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion but anger. "Don' t you ever touch Chloe again."

He turned and knelt beside Chloe, his voice instantly softening. "Are you okay, darling? Let me see."

He didn' t even glance back at Ava.

Pain, sharp and terrifying, ripped through her. She felt a warm wetness spreading beneath her.

"Help..." she whispered, reaching out a hand, but he was already helping Chloe to her feet, his arm protectively around her.

The world started to spin. Darkness closed in.

She dreamt of Caleb.

He was sitting by a lake, sunlight dappling through the trees, his sketchbook open on his lap.

He smiled at her, that gentle, loving smile that always made her heart ache.

"Our baby will be beautiful, Ava," he whispered, his voice like a soothing balm. "Just like you."

He reached for her hand, but his fingers passed right through hers.

She woke up with a gasp, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling her nostrils.

A hospital room. Bright lights.

A nurse was adjusting her IV drip. "Well, look who' s awake. You gave us quite a scare, dear."

The nurse' s expression was stern. "Tumbling down stairs like that... you' re lucky. The baby is fine. For now. We' ll need to monitor you closely."

Relief, so potent it was dizzying, washed over Ava. The baby was safe.

"Your husband... or partner?" the nurse asked, her tone neutral.

Ava closed her eyes, the image of Caleb' s smile still vivid.

"My love is already gone," she whispered, the words raw with a grief that Ethan would never understand.

Just then, the door burst open.

Ethan stood there, his face pale, his eyes wide.

He had clearly overheard her.

"What did you just say?" he demanded, his voice tight. "Your love is gone? What the hell does that mean, Ava?"