Because I Was an and He Threw Away 256

Chapter 256 Trust Had Never Existed 

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Feeling his gaze on her, Emily looked up, catching the confusion in his eyes. 

A faint, bitter smile crossed her lips before she turned away, heading back to the kitchen. 

Trust had never existed between Ethan and her–if he didn’t believe her, she saw no point in explaining. 

Ethan didn’t follow. Instead, he glanced back at Gloria, who’d fallen to the floor. 

Sensing his attention, she pushed herself up slightly, her voice laced with complaint. “I just wanted a bowl of soup. She’s already making breakfast, but she made so little–she knows exactly how many people are in the house.” 

Every word dripped with resentment toward Emily. 

Ethan said nothing to defend Emily, merely bending down to help Gloria to her feet. 

Guiding her to the sofa, he spoke softly, “I’ll go check on her.” 

With that, he walked toward the kitchen. 

Emily had relit the stove, standing by it with sweat beading on 

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< Chapter 256 Trust Had Never Existed 

her forehead, her face drained of energy. 

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Exhaustion seemed to weigh on her shoulders as Ethan stepped beside her, his tone casual as he made his request. “She wants soup–make a little more.” 

Having stayed up all night, Emily was already at her limit. 

His words tightened the knot in her chest, frustration boiling up inside. 

Clenching her teeth, Emily took a deep breath to steady herself before replying, her voice cold, “Make it yourself if you want more. I’m only making enough for Sophie.” 

Ethan noticed her red–rimmed eyes and the dark circles under them—signs of a sleepless night. 

Yet her words made him frown, confusion mixing with irritation. 

After a moment, he asked, “You never used to be like this. What’s gotten into you? It’s just a little more soup–it won’t kill you.” 

Emily’s patience snapped. Spinning around to face him, she glared at him, her voice sharp with resentment. “Ethan, you said it yourself ‘used to be.‘ People change. No one stays the same forever, least of all me.” 

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Ethan rarely saw Emily lose her temper, but it had become common lately. 

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A terrible thought crossed his mind–was she tired of him and Sophia, seeing them as a burden? 

The idea made him snap, his voice rising with emotion. “If you’re sick, go see a doctor. Yelling at me won’t help.” 

His words knocked the wind out of Emily. She stared at him, dumbfounded, for a long moment before a bitter laugh escaped her, raw and broken. “You’re right, Ethan–I am sick. Sick for ever falling in love with you, stupid for thinking a child could tie you down. I’m a fool, a complete idiot.” 

Seeing her so distraught, Ethan realized his words had gone too far. 

Reaching out to take her arm, he tried to apologize, but she swatted his hand away fiercely. “Don’t touch me, Ethan. I don’t want you anywhere near me.” 

Emily was trembling all over, her body wracked with anger and grief. 

A spoon still clutched in her hand, ingredients sizzling in the pot -she hadn’t even had time to stir them before Ethan walked in. 

Panic flickered in Ethan’s chest at her trembling form. He reached out again, desperate to calm her, but before his hand 

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could touch her, Emily hurled the spoon at him. 

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Ethan had no time to dodge. The spoon hit him square on the forehead, a sharp pain shooting through him. 

He touched the spot, his fingertips coming away stained with blood. 

Watching the blood seep down his forehead, Emily felt no sympathy–no flicker of regret. Her voice dropped to a cold, steady murmur. “The only thing tying us together is Sophia. From now on, I don’t want, or need, any other connection to you. I loved you once, Ethan–there’s no denying that. But now, and forevermore, you’re just my ex–husband. A stain I can’t erase from my life.” 

She didn’t let him respond, turning on her heel and walking out of the kitchen. 

Entering the living room, she saw Gloria sitting on the sofa, watching TV and munching on snacks. 

Glancing at her briefly, Emily looked away, heading straight for the front door. 

Once Emily was gone, Gloria dropped her snacks and hurried to the kitchen. 

She’d heard the argument from the living room–though she hadn’t caught the details, their fight filled her with glee. 

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The more they clashed, the better chance her daughter had to win Ethan over. 

Stepping into the kitchen, she saw the blood on Ethan’s forehead and rushed over, her voice oozing fake concern. “Ethan, are you okay? How could she hit you so hard?” 

Ethan said nothing, pushing Gloria’s hand away when she tried to touch him. 

Blood trickled down his cheek, into his eye. Blinking it away, he walked out of the kitchen, his face cold as ice. 

Gloria froze for a moment, surprised by his coldness. But a wide, triumphant smile soon spread across her face–their rift was only growing deeper. 

***** 

Stepping out of Joy Gardens, Emily found the sky fully lit, though the weather was grim–gray and damp, a chill hanging in the air. 

It was almost time to head to work, but with Sophia still stuck in the hospital, Emily decided to ask her boss for three days‘ leave. 

After calling her boss and securing the leave, she set off to buy breakfast for her daughter. 

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Hopping from one cookshop to another, she finally found a bowl of chicken noodle soup she thought Sophia would like. 

Rushing to the hospital, she found her daughter still asleep. 

Sitting beside the bed, Emily stared at Sophia’s pale, thin face, her heart twisting with pain. 

After waiting for nearly half an hour, Sophia slowly opened her 

eyes. 

At the sight of Emily, joy flickered in her eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to call her “Mom.” 

Emily didn’t chide her, her voice gentle as she asked, “Feeling better?” 

Then, she touched Sophia’s forehead–the fever had broken, her skin cool to the touch. 

Sophia swallowed hard, her throat burning like it was cut with a knife. Tears welled up in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. 

Knowing she was in pain, Emily spoke softly, her voice soothing, “Mom brought you soup. Let’s eat a little, then you can sleep more.” 

Sophia nodded, her voice hoarse. “Okay.” 

Helping her sit up, Emily wiped her face and fed her the soup. 

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Sophia took one small spoonful, then spat it out immediately. 

Emily quickly grabbed a tissue to catch it, her voice filled with concern. “What’s wrong? Don’t you like it?” 

Sophia pouted, her voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t your soup. I want the soup you make.” 

The memory of Gloria knocking over her soup stabbed at Emily’s heart. Fighting back the pain, she patted Sophia’s hand gently, trying to persuade her, “Be a good girl, Sophie. Eat a little for now, and Mom will make you something nice for lunch, okay?” 

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Sophia looked up at Emily, noticing the exhaustion on her face. But instead of feeling sorry, she felt only anger–angry that her mom didn’t care enough to make her soup, even when she was sick. 

The thought filled her with overwhelming sadness. 

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