I’m Ethan Vance’s wife. We had a wedding, but we never made it legal, never filed the papers. That marriage license he gave up for his career eventually became the knife twisting in my chest. Later, he knelt in the rain like a madman, begging me to forgive him. But Ethan, dear… without that license, I didn’t even need to tell you I was leaving. 1. When Wendy Bellweather sat down across from me, I recognized her instantly. She was the hottest A-list actress right now, just one step away from winning her Oscar. “Mrs. Vance, fancy meeting you here.” “You’re… simpler than I imagined.” She smiled as she spoke. Movie stars really are on another level, looks-wise. Every little expression was captivating. If I were Ethan, I probably would have indulged a little too. “Ethan talks about you all the time, but he never wanted to bring me to meet you. Said he was embarrassed to show off his plain little wife.” She pouted, her eyes sparkling, but her words cut like a knife. What a perfect little actress, playing the innocent flower! I rarely kept up with entertainment news, but my secret husband was just too famous. Rumors about him were everywhere. After quitting my job, the housekeeper handled everything, so besides coming to this coffee shop, I hardly ever went out. Who knew the rare occasion I did step out, I’d walk into something like this. “It’s my birthday in a couple of days. Ethan said he’s throwing a party for me. Will you come too, Mrs. Vance?” She kept talking, relentless. But as I stayed silent, expressionless, a flicker of impatience and calculation started showing in her clear eyes. Honestly, I was silent because I wasn’t sure how to deal with a mistress who sought me out directly. Ethan had a new rumored girlfriend every year after winning his big award, but it was always just gossip. This one in front of me was the first to actually confront me. I’d lived by the book for thirty years, never imagining I’d end up in such a trashy, humiliating situation because of the man I loved deeply. “Huh, are you mute or something?” She was finally losing her patience, or maybe she just decided I was easy prey. A nasty look crept onto her face. She stood up and poked my forehead hard. “I really don’t know what Ethan sees in you, marrying a country bumpkin like you. Now you’re like gum on his shoe he can’t scrape off.” “Ethan has a scar on his upper thigh, he said you gave it to him when you were kids. Claire, don’t you think you’re just like that scar? The only blemish on his otherwise perfect life?” She even knew about the scar on his thigh. I couldn’t help but sigh softly. The flimsy veil of denial I’d desperately held onto for five years was finally ripped apart. The next second, the coffee in my hand was splashing across her face. 2. Two screams echoed simultaneously. One was Wendy Bellweather’s. The other came from a girl nearby. She must have been a fan of Wendy’s, watching secretly from a distance for who knows how long. “Wendy! Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Luckily for her, the coffee had cooled down. Wendy quickly wiped the viciousness off her face, reverting to her usual pure and innocent look. A single tear slid perfectly from the corner of her eye right on cue – a truly pitiful sight designed to evoke sympathy. “Why did you throw coffee on our Wendy, you evil woman?” “Yeah, who even are you?” A barrage of insults hit me instantly. The quiet coffee shop turned chaotic. The light drizzle outside had unknowingly turned into a downpour. Wind and rain hammered against the windows, fraying everyone's nerves. I grabbed my bag, wanting to leave, but someone shoved me back into the chair. A sharp pain shot through my ankle where it hit the seat frame. “Well, isn’t this lively today? How about I treat everyone to a little show?” The coffee shop’s background music stopped abruptly, replaced by a vaguely familiar voice over the speakers. At the same time, a security camera recording appeared on the large screen in the shop. In the footage, Wendy Bellweather was clearly visible, poking my forehead with a malicious expression. “Well, well, isn’t this the future Oscar winner Wendy, always marketed as the pure, angelic goddess? What brings you to my humble coffee shop to bully one of my customers?” The voice from the speakers dripped with sarcasm. The shop instantly fell silent. The atmosphere turned strange. Wendy’s public image was built on never getting angry, always being gentle like an angel. She’d never shown such a nasty expression in public. I shot a grateful look towards the second floor, at the somewhat nonchalant man standing there – Marc Riley, the owner of this trendy coffee shop. He was a former colleague. We weren't exactly close. Years ago, back in Ridgedale, Marc had been known as one of the city’s top young lawyers. It was a mystery why he suddenly quit at the peak of his career to open a coffee shop here. But he was famous and good-looking, so the place quickly became a hotspot. I’d run into him here by chance. I didn’t know many people in Westbridge, so after a few visits, I became a regular. “I didn’t want to! But she’s a stalker fan! She’s been harassing me constantly, I couldn’t take it anymore! I’m about to have a breakdown! Please, Miss… Claire, just leave me and Ethan alone!” Wendy recovered quickly, expertly painting me as the villain with just a few sentences. “Oh, so she’s a stalker.” “Wendy is too nice! If I were harassed like that, I would have called the cops ages ago! And she’s begging her? Why?!” “Crazy bitch!” … Suddenly, a cup of hot coffee splashed directly onto my face. I stared in disbelief at the person who threw it. 3. As the coffee dripped down my face, I heard gasps and excited murmurs erupt all around. “Omg, omg, is that Ethan Vance?!” “No way, no way, no way! Ethan Vance is here!” The late autumn rain already carried a chill. Ethan was wearing a black trench coat today. I saw the disgust in his eyes directed at me. Before I could even speak… “Ethan, I… I just wanted to—” Wendy stammered, looking flustered, unable to form a complete sentence. But the next second, her expression shifted to shy adoration. Amidst the crowd's hushed whispers, Ethan took her hand. “More people are showing up. My car’s right outside, let’s go.” “Okay, whatever you say, Ethan.” Wendy nodded, her voice soft enough to melt butter. But before leaving, she subtly tugged on Ethan’s hand, her gaze sweeping intentionally towards me. I was completely frozen, my mind blank. What was happening? My husband just threw hot coffee on me in public and walked away holding another woman’s hand right in front of me? Sticky coffee dripped from my hair onto my eyelashes. Through the blurry haze, I saw Ethan’s cold gaze flick over me. It was so unfamiliar. “Ethan, I—” I stood up numbly, my lips parted, but the word “hurts” never came out. The surrounding fans grabbed me roughly, cursing. “You stalker bitch, you’ve got some nerve! Still trying to bother them?” “She needs a good slap to learn her lesson.” In the jostling crowd, I saw Ethan frown and glance at me one last time. Then, holding Wendy’s hand, he walked out into the rain. Just before getting into the car, Wendy turned back and shot me a triumphant smirk. Tears finally streamed down my face. I gave a self-mocking curve of my lips. This really felt like a scene from a movie. “Smack—!” The next second, a stinging slap landed hard across my face. The fans, still not satisfied, swarmed around me. More blows and insults rained down. I threw my hands up to shield my face, feeling dazed, as if I were back in the orphanage of my childhood. Only this time, my little hero had walked off with another girl. He wouldn’t rush in front of me to protect me anymore. Claire, how did you let your life become such a mess? 4. In the end, it was Marc and his staff who rescued me. “Sorry, I made you close up early.” “Don’t mention it, Claire.” He placed a glass of hot water in front of me, then hesitated before speaking. “Have you seen what’s trending online?” “Trending?” I paused, then shook my head. “I deleted all those apps.” “Well… want to look at mine?” He held out his phone. The top three trending topics were all explosive. Number one: #EthanVanceWendyBellweatherOfficial. Ethan had many rumored girlfriends, but it was always just blurry paparazzi photos, and he never confirmed anything. This public display was indeed the first official confirmation. Number two was: #EthanVanceRumoredGirlfriends. But it was number three— I saw the hashtag #StalkerFan and my hand trembled as I tapped on it. The top post featured my face, with a big red X marked over it. “Don’t read the comments.” Marc quickly covered the screen with his hand, but I’d already glimpsed the vile personal attacks. I don’t know how I got home. By the time I snapped back to reality, it was completely dark. Marc’s words echoed in my head. Asking how I planned to clear my name. Asking what I was going to do. Asking me— I didn’t know. I didn’t know anything. The door opened, and a familiar figure hurried in, bringing the cold air from outside. “Honey.” As usual, Ethan immediately wrapped me in a hug the moment he walked in, nuzzling my neck like a puppy. All the cold indifference from earlier in the day was gone. “Honey, happy seventh anniversary.” He gently kissed my lips, placing a large bouquet of roses and a cake in front of me. His eyes were full of intense, sincere emotion. I stared at him, stunned. After a moment, my numb, stiff lips moved silently. “So you did remember… today is our wedding anniversary.” 5. “How could I forget?” His expression was still flawless, his long, fair fingers stroking my cheek with infinite tenderness. “That was the best day of my life,” he said. I looked at the man I knew so well he felt etched into my bones, but all I could see was Wendy Bellweather’s face from earlier that day. A perfect performance, impeccable acting. Suddenly, I felt like I didn’t recognize the man in front of me. “Before, I just thought you treated me like I was deaf and blind. Turns out, you think I’m an idiot too.” Ethan’s hand paused. His eyes finally showed a hint of panic when they met my tear-filled gaze. “No, Claire, that’s not it. You know it was all for publicity, it was all an act.” “An act? Do you really think I’m that stupid?” I sprang up from the sofa, dodging his touch. “Ethan Vance, you make me sick. Absolutely disgusting. Don’t touch me. You’re filthy.” His face instantly crumpled, filled with hurt and brokenness. The more he acted like this, the more disgusted I felt. “Claire, I thought you’d always understand, just like you always have,” he said. So that’s how he saw all my efforts over the years. Just… understanding. No wonder he never bothered to explain anything for so many years. No wonder he took it for granted that after abandoning me, humiliating me in public, I’d just continue to play dumb and treat him the same way. “Ethan, why?” I finally couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Is it because you don’t love me anymore? Is it desire? We could have gotten divorced, Ethan. Why did you have to humiliate me like this?” “Of course not, Claire!” He shot up, stepping closer urgently. “How could I not love you? I told you, I love you. Till death do us part.” “You know… my dream.” His dream. Always his dream. I slumped back onto the sofa with a bitter smile, feeling like I was stranded in an endless desert, unable to take another step. Because there was no hope in sight. 6. Ethan and I grew up in the same orphanage. We gradually developed feelings for each other in middle school. He confessed to me on high school graduation day, and I shyly nodded yes. I got into a top university, with some financial support from the orphanage. He went straight into acting, starting with bit parts, and would send me money for living expenses whenever he could. Then, two years after I graduated, we got married. Back then, he hadn’t won his major awards yet but was already a massive star, right in the middle of his career ascent. A recent romantic movie had gained him a huge following of female fans who saw him as their ideal boyfriend. For the sake of his career, we didn’t get a marriage license. But he insisted on giving me a wedding. So, in a rented villa outside the city, we invited a few close friends we grew up with from the orphanage and had a simple ceremony. He promised me that once he achieved his dream, he would give me the grandest wedding imaginable. I really used to look forward to that. But as time went on, the importance of the ceremony faded, and the dream wedding became a blur. Lately, all I hoped for was that he wouldn’t change, that his feelings wouldn’t waver. That would be enough. But even that small wish— “Ethan, I get disappointed too. When disappointment piles up, eventually, you give up,” I said calmly. Those words had been stuck in my heart for years, swirling around ever since the rumors started, and kept coming. But saying them out loud now surprised even me. My heart didn’t ache as much as I thought it would. It was like cutting out a piece of rotten flesh that had been festering in my chest for years. When I finally decided to remove it, the pain wasn't as unbearable as I'd imagined. Ethan’s expression finally showed true panic. He always knew how to read me. “Claire, I messed up. I’ll cut ties with Wendy Bellweather right now. Not just her, I’ll clear up all the rumors with everyone.” “When I’m with them, I pretend I’m acting. Otherwise, I can’t stand it for a second. Claire, trust me, I never crossed the line with any of them.” See? He always knew what bothered me. Tears fell from his beautiful eyes. Ethan knelt pitifully on the floor, hugging my legs like a lost puppy. “Give me one more chance, Claire. Just one last time. I have a feeling this movie I’m negotiating for now… it’s the one I’ve been waiting for.” “After it’s done, we’ll go get the license.” “I’ll tell the whole world that you’re the only love of my life.” In the end, my heart softened. I never expected the consequences of that weakness to come so swiftly. 7. Two days later, same afternoon, same place, Wendy Bellweather sat across from me again. Probably still shaken from the last encounter, Marc proactively offered us a private room. “I’m pregnant. It’s Ethan’s.” She placed a medical report in front of me. A pregnancy test report. I’d seen them countless times on TV, imagined holding one myself countless times. To avoid the complications of having a child without being legally married and the child facing documentation issues, we had always held back from having kids. But no one understood the longing for a happy, complete family more than two people who grew up in an orphanage. “I know you two aren’t legally married. Ethan told me everything. So, as long as you don’t try to guilt-trip him with your past relationship, as long as you just leave cleanly, he can finally have a happy, perfect family.” I let out a cold snort, a sarcastic smile playing on my lips. “My husband gets a new woman every year. If you count, Miss Bellweather, isn’t your year almost up?” “Maybe you should worry about whether you’ll be sticking around first.” * That day was my birthday. It was also the anniversary of the day I was sent to the orphanage. I was already six then, old enough to remember things clearly. My parents, celebrating my birthday, had drunk too much and somehow started arguing. In the chaos, my dad shoved my mom towards a cabinet. A vase on top fell and hit her head. Blood trickled down from the corner of her eye. Mom slowly closed her eyes. Later, Dad frantically dropped me off at the orphanage gate. But as he turned to run away, a car speeding around the corner hit him, sending him flying. I lost both my parents on the same day. * Today, I went home early and cooked a big meal, waiting for Ethan. My childhood trauma made it impossible for me to spend this day alone. Ethan knew that. In the past, no matter how busy he was or how far away, he always came back to be with me. But this time, he broke his promise. Maybe it was some kind of intuition, but that day, I didn’t immediately call him to check if he was okay. Instead, I re-downloaded all the social media apps I had deleted. Trending #1: #EthanVanceProposal.
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