There was clearly a hint of lust in Ethan’s eyes. Ava felt annoyed. She didn’t want to see him; their divorce would be handled by lawyers. She tried to close the door, but Ethan was faster. He blocked it with one foot, then easily slipped inside. As soon as the door shut, Ava was pulled into the man’s arms.
Ethan wrapped his arms around her slender waist, pressing her tightly against himself. He kissed her frantically, and Ava couldn’t break free. They stumbled and fumbled toward the sofa, half-resisting, half-giving in. On the soft sofa, the man clearly had more freedom to move—Ethan had never been like this!
The bright lights and the woman’s soft moans seemed unable to bring the man back to his senses. It wasn’t until a faint red mole came into view that Ethan slowed down a little. He struggled to catch his breath, his hot lips brushing against Ava’s ear, his voice hoarse beyond recognition: “Do you like me?”
Ava’s body stiffened—She did like Ethan. She had liked him since she was twenty, and Ethan knew it well. But he had never asked about it all these years. Now that he suddenly brought it up, Ava thought he must have lost his mind and naturally refused to say those embarrassing words.
When Ava wouldn’t answer, Ethan pressed her, wanting to have sex. They tangled on the sofa. Ava grabbed his short hair, gasping softly: “Ethan, calm down. It’s not my ovulation period. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get me pregnant.”
At that, Ethan lifted his head slightly. The man’s deep eyes fixed on her—her small oval face smooth and soft, slightly damp black hair spread over the brown sofa, the men’s black shirt already disheveled, barely covering anything…
She looked so alluring, yet Ethan’s eyes quietly reddened. He reached out, gently touching her belly. It was soft and flat.
Ava tilted her head back, her voice trembling as she repeated: “Ethan, it’s not my fertile period.”
“I know.”
The man’s voice was even hoarser than before. He continued to caress her belly tenderly. After a long, long time, he leaned down to kiss her, lingering and passionate, as if he wanted to spend a lifetime doing just this with her.
The man’s desire flared up instantly. But Ethan stopped, panting heavily as he lay on top of her. His rapid breaths showed immense restraint and patience. It was the first time he’d been so overwhelmed by desire with Ava. He had really, really wanted to…
Ava pushed him away. Though she looked disheveled, she forced herself to stay calm, fished out the divorce agreement, and threw it at Ethan. Her voice was hoarse: “You can hold my 20% shares in trust; I’ll just take the dividends. Ethan, you know full well if my four years of effort are worth that.”
“They are.”
“But I don’t want to give it.” Ethan’s eyes were deep, with something Ava couldn’t read.
She looked down at herself, then boldly hooked her arms around his neck, pressing her body close to his: “Sign it, and I’ll let you have me once. You seem to need it right now.”
Ethan frowned: “Where did you get that idea?”
Ava smiled bitterly: “Ethan, I find it’s quite nice to hook my arms around your neck and ask for money. Why did I work so hard in the past? In the end, I was just thrown out of Ronin Group. I might as well just ask you for money.”
Ethan sat up, took a pack of cigarettes from his coat, and lit one skillfully. He rarely smoked indoors, which showed how troubled he was.
Ava was annoyed. This bastard had been kissing her on the sofa for ages, leaving her in a state unfit to be seen, while he himself was fully dressed, even with his coat still on. Ava thought he was acting strange—he must have been dumped. But as her soon-to-be ex-husband, his private life was none of her business. That was a necessary awareness for a sensible woman.
She couldn’t drive him away, nor was she interested in watching him smoke. She gathered her wet hair at the back of her head, secured it with a shark clip, slipped on her indoor slippers, and went to the kitchen to make herself a bowl of noodles. Ava was actually a good cook, but after marrying Ethan, she rarely had the chance to cook. Now living alone, she prepared simple meals for herself.
Soon, the aroma of scallions filled the kitchen, have a faint scent of daily life. Ethan sat on the sofa, catching a glimpse of Ava’s back. She was still in that black shirt, her legs exposed, looking alluring, yet as she bowed her head to chop scallions and ginger, there was an inexplicable air of a housewife about her. The word “beloved wife” started to take concrete form.
Ethan thought silently: a woman like this must be the dream of many men. At the thought, he frowned slightly, leaned forward to stub out his cigarette, and began to look around the house. Small as it was, it had everything needed.
She had even set up a small painting room. Ethan lifted the cloth covering the easel, revealing an unfinished painting—a starry sky and sea. No longer of him. In the past, Ava had loved painting him the most. The man ran his fingers gently over the brushstrokes, a faint bitterness in his heart.
After a while, he tiptoed into the narrow kitchen and wrapped his arms around her slender waist from behind. They’d never been this tender as a couple. Ethan’s beautiful lips pressed against the back of her neck, his voice slightly hoarse: “Is this the life you want? A house under 150 square meters, daily chores, slowly fading into an ordinary woman?”
Ava didn’t struggle. After four years of marriage, they’d done far more intimate things. This little bit of closeness felt no worse than being bitten by a dog. She kept moving her hands, her voice calm: “Yes, this is the life I want! Once the divorce is final, my life will be even more perfect. I can buy a 2000-square-meter house, hire ten servants, and if I’m in the mood, I can bring home a man I like and party all night…”
Ethan was clearly irritated. He bit her neck: “You’re still Margret.”
“Not for long.”
As the words fell, he turned her around. The man looked down at her, his gaze unfathomably deep. After a long pause, he said hoarsely: “If this is the biggest problem in our marriage… Ava, I can satisfy you too.”
In the past, Ava would have been unable to resist his charm. But now, she was immune to Ethan’s allure. A man’s sweet words were just tools to get what he wanted. She’d fallen for it once, and it had left her battered and bruised…
Ava turned back to her noodles, but the man insisted she make some for him too. He clung to her, saying he was hungry. Ava paused, thinking of his messy business with Lily, and sneered: “You really are hungry, Ethan.”
Ethan’s calloused fingertips gently brushed her lower abdomen—he seemed particularly fond of touching that spot tonight. After a long time, he said hoarsely: “I’ve never touched her.” Ava didn’t reply.
That night, Ethan refused to leave. Even snowball tugging at his trouser legs couldn’t drive him away. Ava was forced to give up half the bed. Before falling asleep, Ethan pressed Ava onto the bed, kissed her with intertwined fingers. In her memory, only their wedding night had seen him this passionate…
