Chapter 10 Give Him My LifeÂ
Jane reached the study to find Ethan rummaging through papers on the desk.Â
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At the sound of her footsteps, he looked up instantly. “Where’s Emily?”Â
Jane pointed downstairs. “Mrs. Wilson had something urgent. She left in a hurry.”Â
Ethan stood straight, his face darkening. “She left?”Â
He’d come to find the “agreement” she mentioned, but the desk was empty. Now she was gone too. It was hard not to be frustrated.Â
Jane noticed his tone and shrank back. “Mr. Wilson, what are you looking for?”Â
Ethan rubbed his temple, irritable. “Emily said there was an agreement on the desk. Have you seen it?”Â
Jane’s face lit up. “Oh! I remember now. Mrs. Wilson asked me to give it to you. I hid it in my room so I wouldn’t forget. I’ll get it right away!”Â
Ethan frowned. “Don’t touch things in the study again.” 15:47Â
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“Okay, sir!” Jane nodded frantically and hurried downstairs.Â
Ethan was about to sit when his phone rang. It was Emma.Â
“Ethan, aren’t you done yet?” Emma’s voice was sharp. “Sophie won’t sleep. She’s throwing a fit for you.”Â
Done? Ethan frowned, confused, but didn’t ask. “I know. I’ll be there soon.”Â
Downstairs, Jane tore through her room, oblivious that Ethan had already left.Â
She muttered to herself, “Where did I put that paper?” as she checked drawers and shelves.Â
******Â
By early morning, rain pattered against the car windows. The heater hummed, wrapping the interior in warmth.Â
Vanessa slouched in the passenger seat, hands covering her face, sobs shaking her shoulders.Â
Emily just watched quietly, not asking anything.Â
After a while, Vanessa’s voice broke through the tears. “Derek cheated again.”Â
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Emily wasn’t surprised.Â
Vanessa and Derek had been together eight years, since college. They couldn’t split up, but they couldn’t marry either.Â
Their love had faded long ago, but Vanessa clung on, waiting for him to propose. But all she’d gotten was betrayal, over andÂ
over.Â
And every time, she forgave him.Â
At 27, she was stuck–too scared to start over without him.Â
Vanessa’s sobs filled the car.Â
Emily’s chest ached, but her voice was steady. “Maybe you should let go.”Â
Vanessa pulled her hands away, eyes red. “I can’t. Emily, I’ve given him my life.”Â
Emily couldn’t hold back. She leaned over, grabbing Vanessa’s wrists. “You’re the one holding on. Even I moved on. What’s stopping you?”Â
Vanessa stared at her for a long time, then looked away. “I don’t believe you.”Â
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Emily nodded, sincere. “It’s true.”Â
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The determination in her eyes didn’t look fake.Â
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Vanessa looked down, picking at her sleeve. “I just… I can’t. I gave him everything.”Â
”Â
Tears rolled down her cheeks.Â
Emily sighed. “I won’t push you. When you’ve hurt enough, you’ll turn around.”Â
She knew that pain firsthand. Her parents had begged her not to marry Ethan, but she’d threatened to cut ties.Â
No one could wake you up until you hit rock bottom.Â
Vanessa cried for another hour, then started calling Derek.Â
He didn’t answer, so she called again, and again—until, finally, he blocked her.Â
Undeterred, she borrowed Emily’s phone and dialed his number. This went on for thirty minutes before he finally picked up.Â
But before Vanessa could say anything, Derek launched into a tirade. “Vanessa, when will you stop? Don’t you sleep? Do you want to install a GPS on me or what?”Â
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Vanessa stammered, “Derek, I just…”Â
He cut her off. “I have nothing to say. I’m sleeping. Bye.”Â
The line went dead.Â
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Vanessa tried calling back, but it went straight to voicemail. The phone screen glistened with her tears.Â
Emily watched, remembering how she’d once begged Ethan to answer her calls, too.Â
It just wasn’t worth it.Â
She took Vanessa’s hand, sitting with her in silence.Â
******Â
The next morning at 5 AM, Emily woke up early to hit the market. Then she spent the whole day in the kitchen.Â
It was the weekend, so Molly stayed home to help–peeling garlic, chopping scallions, chattering the whole time.Â
Ryan and Henry both went to the company. Chloe was modeling, shooting next year’s spring collection. Linda left early too, saying she was buying a cake for Henry.Â
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That evening, Emily prepared a whole table of dishes.Â
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Steamed, stewed, stir–fried, braised, and cold dishes… she practically made everything.Â
When the family walked in, their eyes widened.Â
Ryan’s gaze fell on Emily.Â
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She wore an apron, no makeup, and her hair tied back. She didn’t look like the spoiled Carter daughter he’d grown up with at all. Marrying into the Wilsons had changed her, and not for the better.Â
He handed his briefcase to the servant, grabbed a towel to wipe his hands, and his voice sharpened. “The Carter family has servants. Did you really have to cook yourself?Â
“And if not that, there are restaurants everywhere that would’ve been way better than whatever you made.”Â
His words were harsh, but Emily knew he was feeling sorryÂ
her.Â
forÂ
Ryan was right. The Carter family wasn’t exactly elite, but they weren’t poor, either. They could easily afford to eat out.Â
But Emily wanted to cook herself. She’d prepared birthday dinners for Julian for five years, yet she’d never made a single meal for her own father.Â
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The guilt weighed heavily on her.Â
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Chloe pinched Ryan’s arm under the table. He winced, fallingÂ
silent.Â
Anyway, this dinner was lively. Chloe even suggested taking photos.Â
Emily laughed as Molly smeared frosting on her cheek, and Ryan groaned when Chloe did the same to him. They sang “Happy Birthday,” blew out the candles, and cut the cake together…Â
For the first time in years, Emily felt truly happy.Â
She’d never posted on social media during her marriage, but tonight she opened the app. She uploaded the photos Chloe had taken–nine in total, all of the family laughing.Â
The caption read: From now on, every year on this day, I’ll only spend it with Dad. Happy birthday, Dad.Â
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