Chapter 2

The upscale apartment Ethan provided felt like a gilded cage.

Ava walked through the rooms, the expensive furniture, the art he' d chosen, all of it a reminder of her dependence.

She' d tried to make it a home, added her own small touches, but it always felt like his space, not theirs.

She remembered when he first gave her the keys, how overwhelmed and grateful she' d been.

He' d solved her biggest problems with a wave of his hand, a transfer of funds.

"Don't worry about the money, Ava," he'd said. "Just be mine."

And she had been.

Now, that felt like a trap she' d willingly walked into.

She sank onto the plush sofa, the silence of the apartment pressing in on her.

Her mind replayed Chloe' s dismissive glance, Ethan' s casual text.

He was already moving on, making space for Chloe in his life, and Ava was just an inconvenience to be managed.

She touched her side, a dull ache reminding her of the doctor's appointment last week.

A stress-induced autoimmune condition, the doctor had said. Manageable, but serious if ignored.

She' d downplayed it to Ethan, not wanting to seem weak or add another burden.

He hated weakness.

Now, the stress was a physical weight, crushing her.

She heard his key in the door later that evening.

Ethan walked in, looking handsome and unbothered, loosening his tie.

"Rough day?" he asked, his tone light, as if she' d merely misplaced a file.

"I was fired, Ethan," Ava said, her voice flat.

He waved a hand dismissively. "It's a temporary setback. We'll find you something else. Or you can take some time off. I' ll take care of you."

"You fired me," she stated, needing him to acknowledge his role.

"It was a business decision, Ava. The department was overstaffed." He avoided her eyes, walking to the bar to pour himself a drink.

A lie. She knew it was a lie.

"Chloe Davenport is back," Ava said quietly.

Ethan paused, his back to her. "Yes. She is. An old friend."

He turned, his expression unreadable. "Don't make this into something it's not."

But it already was something. His tone, his evasion, it all screamed guilt.

Later, as they lay in bed, the distance between them felt vast.

He reached for her, his touch possessive, almost a reassertion of ownership.

Ava remained still, her body tense.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with impatience when she didn't respond to him. "Still upset about the job? I told you I'd handle it."

She said nothing, just stared at the ceiling.

His phone lit up on the nightstand. A message from Chloe. Ava saw her name flash briefly.

Ethan quickly glanced at it, a small smile playing on his lips, then put the phone face down.

He didn't mention it.

Ava felt a chill spread through her. He was already living a separate life, one that didn't include her.

The tabloids the next morning confirmed it.

Pictures of Ethan and Chloe at a trendy restaurant, laughing, close. The headline read: "Tech Mogul Ethan Vance Rekindles Romance with Socialite Chloe Davenport?"

It was a public declaration. Ava was being erased.

She looked at her reflection, pale and tired.

The woman staring back was a stranger, someone who had allowed herself to become small, dependent.

A quiet anger began to simmer beneath the surface of her compliance.

She wouldn't be erased so easily.