Chapter 11
It wasn’t until Emily had been gone for an entire month that Ethan finally realized something was wrong.
He’d assumed she was just playing some childish game of hard to get–trying to provoke a reaction from him. But as call after call went unanswered, and none of her old friends seemed to know where she’d gone, Ethan finally started taking it seriously.
He hung up with an impatient huff, stalked into his home office, and checked her bank account online.
The screen loaded: the black card he’d given her remained untouched. Zero activity.
She had taken nothing from the Caldwell accounts–not a dime. Just her own savings. Nothing more.
“Well. She’s got pride, I’ll give her that.”
He let out a cold laugh and shut the laptop.
Did she expect this would make him go crawling after her?
Please. That kind of stunt might work on amateurs, but not on him.
The next morning at breakfast, Lucas and Lily were chirping away about school. Sophia smiled sweetly across the table, piling their plates with food, Joccasionally throwing Ethan a gentle look.
It should’ve been the perfect picture of domestic bliss.
And yet… something felt off.
“Daddy, we’ve got a parent–student field day next week,” Lily said, swinging her legs. “Can you come with Aunt Sophia?”
“Of course.” Ethan nodded, then paused. “Wait… who usually went with you before? Was it your mom?”
Both kids pulled a face like he’d asked the grossest question on earth.
“Yeah, but we never wanted her there,” Lucas muttered, stabbing at his eggs. “All she did was stay home and cook and clean. She’s not cool like Aunt Sophia.”
“She didn’t even dress up,” Lily chimed in. “But Aunt Sophia always looks so pretty! All my classmates are jealous.”
Sophia gave an embarrassed little giggle and poured Ethan a cup of coffee. “Try it, I asked the housekeeper to brew it just the way you like.”
Ethan took a sip then immediately frowned. Way too sweet.
Ernily never got it wrong. She used to grind the beans by hand. No sugar, just one spoon of cream. Always perfect.
Sophia’s voice broke his thoughts. “What’s wrong? Not your taste?”
“It’s fine.” He set the cup down. Then, adjusting his sleeves, he muttered, “I’m heading to the office.”
Life at Sterling Place carried on as usual, at least on the surface.
But underneath, the seams were starting to show.
Sophia had never done housework before. After a few half–hearted tries, she gave up entirely, leaving everything to the staff.
Sure, things still ran smoothly. Nothing major broke down. Yet Ethan and a few others sensed something quietly slipping away.
There were no more perfectly pressed shirts waiting in the closet.
No more warm milk before bed.
No more carefully planned dinners tailored to everyone’s tastes.
No disasters, no chaos–but the warmth was gone.
One night, Ethan came home late from a business banquet. His tie was loosened, footsteps slightly unsteady.
He collapsed onto the sofa and waved off his assistant. “You can go. I’ve got it from here.”
The door clicked shut. Silence settled over the room.
Chapter 11
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Ethan rubbed his temples, weary.
Then, almost instinctively, he called out, “Anyone there?”
The words hung in the air.
He blinked. That’s when he noticed it–something was… missing.
No soft wall light waiting for him.
No steaming mug on the coffee table.
No comforting scent of ginger and herbs from the hangover broth she always made.
He frowned, picked up the phone, and called the servant’s quarters.
When someone finally answered, his tone sharpened. “Didn’t I say I had a business dinner tonight? Why the hell is there nothing ready at home?”
Not long after, Mrs. Carson hurried in, clearly flustered.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Caldwell. It completely slipped my mind. Those were all things Mrs. Caldwell used to do herself… she never let us help.”
“As for the hangover soup…” she hesitated, then added, “She used to buy everything herself, spend hours at the stove. Always made sure it was ready when you came home late…”
‘If you’d like, I can try making it now…”
Ethan felt like something just cracked open inside him.
So it had all been her. Every small comfort. Every little detail.
He’d always known she was meticulous.
But not until now did the realization hit–how deeply, how silently, she had cared.
And for the first time…
He felt something dangerously close to regret.
Chapter 11
