Divorce Him Before We Even Marry - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
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The moment I walked in, Ethan froze mid-packing. "Sit," he ordered.
His expression told me exactly what was coming—another lecture about patience, apologies, and how to "properly" handle kids. I obeyed without a word, grabbing a tissue to dab at the cut on my forehead before holding it out to him.
A bright red stain bloomed across the paper.
Ethan's voice died in his throat. His face flushed, then paled, shifting like he couldn't decide between guilt and frustration.
"I'll take the couch tonight," I said, gathering my blankets and turning toward the door.
"Wait—" He caught my arm. "Just stay here. Why make a scene?"
He thought I was still mad about earlier. With a sigh, he tugged me back. "Lily's just a kid. And Linda didn't mean anything by it. You're the adult—don't hold a grudge."
Then, softer, like he was pleading: "They're guests. I know you don't like Linda, but she's been through enough. Can't you let it go?"
I scoffed. "So you invited them in… and now you're pretending it was my idea?"
His breath stuttered. For once, he had nothing to say.
I almost laughed.
See? No matter how smooth the words, the truth always bleeds through.
Out of respect for his parents, I'd kept my mouth shut—for his career, for appearances.
But this? This was the only way.
That night, Ethan crashed on the living room floor.
The next morning, I woke up early, packed my things, and decided to find a hotel before coming back for my luggage.
When I opened the door, I found Ethan had already made breakfast.
Lily, spotting me, let out a snort and pulled the food closer to herself and Linda.
Ethan walked in with a plate of fried eggs and grinned. "You're up! Come eat—I made some eggs."
Then he noticed the scene at the table and forced an awkward smile. "Good girl, Lily. Share with Auntie, okay?"
I ignored them and walked out.
The only hotel nearby was right across the street. I booked the cheapest room—twenty-one bucks for three days.
After paying, I grabbed some steamed buns and fried dough sticks from a breakfast stall.
When I got back, my stomach dropped. My packed bags were torn open, my things thrown everywhere.
Worse—Lily was sitting at the table, folding my acceptance letter into paper airplanes.
My vision blurred with rage. "What the hell are you doing?!"
I yanked the letter back, and Lily, startled, toppled off the table.
Her ear-splitting wail brought Linda rushing in.
"What's wrong with you? Who said you could bully Lily?!" She shoved me aside and scooped the sobbing girl into her arms.
Hands shaking, I tried to smooth out the crumpled letter. "I bullied her? Look what she did!"
"Who told you to leave your stuff lying around? Get out!" Linda glared at me, cold as ice.
She stood, still holding Lily, and marched toward the door—then paused.
"Even if you do marry Ethan someday, you'll never win against me."
The door slammed behind her.
Linda's true colors only came out when Ethan wasn't around.
His expression told me exactly what was coming—another lecture about patience, apologies, and how to "properly" handle kids. I obeyed without a word, grabbing a tissue to dab at the cut on my forehead before holding it out to him.
A bright red stain bloomed across the paper.
Ethan's voice died in his throat. His face flushed, then paled, shifting like he couldn't decide between guilt and frustration.
"I'll take the couch tonight," I said, gathering my blankets and turning toward the door.
"Wait—" He caught my arm. "Just stay here. Why make a scene?"
He thought I was still mad about earlier. With a sigh, he tugged me back. "Lily's just a kid. And Linda didn't mean anything by it. You're the adult—don't hold a grudge."
Then, softer, like he was pleading: "They're guests. I know you don't like Linda, but she's been through enough. Can't you let it go?"
I scoffed. "So you invited them in… and now you're pretending it was my idea?"
His breath stuttered. For once, he had nothing to say.
I almost laughed.
See? No matter how smooth the words, the truth always bleeds through.
Out of respect for his parents, I'd kept my mouth shut—for his career, for appearances.
But this? This was the only way.
That night, Ethan crashed on the living room floor.
The next morning, I woke up early, packed my things, and decided to find a hotel before coming back for my luggage.
When I opened the door, I found Ethan had already made breakfast.
Lily, spotting me, let out a snort and pulled the food closer to herself and Linda.
Ethan walked in with a plate of fried eggs and grinned. "You're up! Come eat—I made some eggs."
Then he noticed the scene at the table and forced an awkward smile. "Good girl, Lily. Share with Auntie, okay?"
I ignored them and walked out.
The only hotel nearby was right across the street. I booked the cheapest room—twenty-one bucks for three days.
After paying, I grabbed some steamed buns and fried dough sticks from a breakfast stall.
When I got back, my stomach dropped. My packed bags were torn open, my things thrown everywhere.
Worse—Lily was sitting at the table, folding my acceptance letter into paper airplanes.
My vision blurred with rage. "What the hell are you doing?!"
I yanked the letter back, and Lily, startled, toppled off the table.
Her ear-splitting wail brought Linda rushing in.
"What's wrong with you? Who said you could bully Lily?!" She shoved me aside and scooped the sobbing girl into her arms.
Hands shaking, I tried to smooth out the crumpled letter. "I bullied her? Look what she did!"
"Who told you to leave your stuff lying around? Get out!" Linda glared at me, cold as ice.
She stood, still holding Lily, and marched toward the door—then paused.
"Even if you do marry Ethan someday, you'll never win against me."
The door slammed behind her.
Linda's true colors only came out when Ethan wasn't around.
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