Wife Or Mistress? The Shocking Truth About My Marriage - Chapter 114: Chapter 114

That night, Blake stood outside like some lost puppy for God knows how long.
Karma's a real bitch, because his little pity party ended with him burning up with fever and passing out cold.
Blake was sitting in his dark-ass living room surrounded by empty bottles like some washed-up rock star.
He looked like absolute garbage—slumped on the couch, shirt all messed up, eyes red as hell, totally drained.
One of his guys crept in like he was walking on eggshells and whispered: "Boss, Miss Walker still... told you to fuck off."
Blake's fingers squeezed his glass so hard it almost cracked, making the booze slosh around.
"What exactly did she say?" His voice sounded like he'd been gargling nails.
The guy hesitated like he was about to deliver a death sentence: "Mr. Reynolds had someone pass along her exact words—"
He paused, then just ripped off the Band-Aid: "If Sophia's lies hadn't been exposed, he'd never think I was good enough to chase after."
Blake's knuckles went white as sheets, strangling his glass.
"But love that shows up late to the party ain't worth shit."
"I don't buy for a second that he actually gives a fuck about me now. He just misses having his little servant girl around. He wants me back so I can keep wiping his ass and cooking his meals."
"But I'm so over that clown. Not falling for that trap again."
When the guy finished, he was barely breathing.
The room went dead silent except for Blake's heavy breathing.
He let out this sad-ass laugh that was pure self-pity.
"She doesn't even care enough to hate me..."
He suddenly whipped his glass against the wall so hard it exploded!
Glass went flying everywhere, booze splashing all over the place.
The guy jumped back like he'd been shot, and before he could blink, Blake's eyes went crazy red as he grabbed a bottle and smashed it on the floor.
He straight-up roared: "GET OUT! ALL OF YOU GET THE FUCK OUT!"
The guy bolted for the door.
Before closing it, he caught Blake collapsing on the floor like a puppet with cut strings, hiding his face, but not the tears leaking through his fingers.
"Liv..."
His voice was wrecked, like someone had taken a cheese grater to his throat.
But this time, nobody was answering his calls.
Over at Ethan's place, when he heard his message got delivered to Blake word for word, his lips curled into a little smile.
I was coming downstairs and caught that smirk, which made me grin too.
"What's up? Ethan, what's got you looking so smug?"
Ethan jumped up and grabbed my hand as I hit the bottom step.
"Nothing, just some loser getting what he deserves."
I didn't push it, just plopped down with him on the couch.
The living room just had one warm lamp on. I snatched up a game controller from the table.
I winked like I was up to no good: "Bet I can smoke you in this race."
The screen lit up our faces in that blue glow.
I sat cross-legged, gripping the controller, laser-focused on not wrecking my car.
"Left! LEFT! You're gonna CRASH!" I slapped Ethan's thigh in panic.
Ethan laughed, his arms wrapping around me from behind, chin on my shoulder:
"Chill out, I just passed that guy for you, didn't I?"
His breath tickled my ear, making me scrunch up like a turtle, ears turning red: "That tickles like crazy..."
I tried to escape, but Ethan got that mischievous look and deliberately blew on my ear.
I fell over laughing, almost launching the controller across the room: "Knock it off! We're gonna lose!"
While we were messing around, I lost my balance and he pinned me down on the couch.
Ethan hovered over me, the screen light making his face look all mysterious.
No idea who stopped laughing first, but suddenly we were breathing the same air.
The game was still making noise, but we weren't seeing anything but each other.
Ethan kissed my nose: "Getting sleepy on me?"
That's when I noticed my eyes felt heavy as bricks.
I snuggled against him, my voice all groggy: "One more game, then bed..."
Ethan killed the game and pulled me closer.
Half-asleep, I felt myself getting picked up, and wrapped my arms around his neck without thinking.
I vaguely heard him telling the maid to clean up before I got tucked into the warm sheets.
Between awake and asleep, I felt a kiss on my forehead. I moved toward the warmth and totally conked out.
When the sun started poking through the curtains, I felt someone playing with my hair. Without opening my eyes, I reached out and covered Ethan's mouth: "Five more minutes, dammit."
Ethan laughed under my hand and pulled me tighter, twirling my hair around his finger.
As we headed downstairs all giggly and shit, we completely missed the butler looking like he had something stuck in his throat.
After breakfast, when I went to chase cats in the garden, the butler swooped in: "Some dude dropped off a ton of gifts this morning."
Ethan froze mid-hand-drying, watching me through the window: "Trash all of it."
His voice was quiet but had that "don't even think about arguing" vibe, "And make damn sure she doesn't see any of it."