His Muse Is Dead, and My New Life Has Begun

I have PTSD. Whenever I hear a sharp, crashing sound, my entire body shakes uncontrollably. But Ethan always claimed he was an artist.

He said smashing things was how he found his "inspiration." In our three years of marriage, the porcelain in our house had been replaced over and over again.

Every time glass shattered, I could only cover my ears as hard as I could. I once begged him to work in a soundproof studio.

But he only sneered, smashing a vase right at my feet. "If you can't even stand this little noise, why did you marry me in the first place?" I could only curl up in the corner, holding my head, praying to survive the panic attack.

Later, when I got pregnant, my anxiety skyrocketed. I begged him to stop smashing things.

Instead, he bought me a pair of noisecanceling headphones. "Wear these and you won't hear anything. Stop being so dramatic." I nodded, trying to convince myself he was right.

Until I was eight months pregnant, and I came home early from my prenatal checkup. The front door was slightly ajar.

Ethan was standing barefoot among a sea of shattered glass, holding someone tightly in his arms. The girl was crying softly. She was the college student he sponsored.

I stood at the door, watching them for a long time. The girl had accidentally broken a glass and was sobbing in terror.

Ethan reached out, gently covering her ears. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. It's just a cup. Out with the old, in with the new.

I'll replace everything in this house with plastic cups so you never get startled again." As it turned out, he didn't have an uncontrollable temper.

He just didn't think my terror was worth comforting. …… I looked down at my round, heavy belly. Eight months.

To avoid disturbing his artistic creation, I wore those heavy noisecanceling headphones every single day.

Even when my ears became inflamed and swollen from the constant pressure, he never showed a shred of sympathy. He would only sneer and smash a vase right at my feet.

He said he had to support the family, that he needed inspiration, and told me to stop being so highmaintenance. As it turned out, he didn't have an uncontrollable temper.

He just didn't think my terror was worth comforting. From the corner of her eye, Lily caught sight of me standing outside.

Like a startled little deer, she shrank deeper into Ethan's chest. "Ethan...

Chloe is standing outside." "Did I disturb her by breaking the cup?" Ethan gently patted her back to soothe her.

He glanced carelessly toward the door, his brow furrowing slightly. "There’s no one there. The wind probably blew the door open." "She isn't even back from her prenatal checkup yet.

And even if she were, she's wearing her headphones. She can't hear a thing." I didn't push the door open to confront them.

My throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, rendering me completely mute. I silently turned around and walked away.

The baby in my womb seemed to feel my grief, giving me a sharp kick. Clutching my aching lower abdomen, I walked aimlessly down the street.

Suddenly, the sky opened up, and a torrential downpour began. I didn't have an umbrella. Soaked and miserable, I had no choice but to seek shelter in a corner convenience store.

That was when Ethan's call came through. "Where are you?" The moment the call connected, his impatient voice blared through the receiver. "Why aren't you back to cook after your checkup?

Lily's stomach is upset today.

She wants that homemade linguine you make." I stared at the heavy rain outside, my voice flat. "I'm caught in the rain." A cold snort came from the other end. "Chloe, are you playing hard to get again?" "It's your own fault for not checking the weather forecast before leaving.

Don't expect me to come pick you up." "If you're not back in half an hour, don't bother coming back at all." I didn't say another word. I hung up.

The rain showed no signs of stopping. I hailed a cab and drove straight to my lawyer's office. "Mrs.

Miller, you drafted this divorce agreement and left it with me a long time ago." The lawyer handed me the document, his eyes filled with worry. "Are you sure you want to sign it now?

You're heavily pregnant, after all." I took the pen and signed my name without a second thought. "I'm sure." I should have signed it long ago.

I had just been holding onto a foolish illusion, clinging to the man who once promised to protect me from the world. Now, the dream was over.

By the time I got home, the rain had stopped. I was drenched to the bone, my hair clinging to my cheeks like a drowned rat. The rich aroma of food wafted from the kitchen.

Ethan was wearing an apron, personally cooking pasta for Lily. He used to do that for me, too. When we first got together, my appetite was terrible.

He would drive across the entire city just to buy those pastries I loved. He would whip up different midnight snacks for me late at night.

Later, when he became a famous painter, his temper grew with his fame. He said his hands were meant for painting, not for grease and smoke.

As it turned out, his warmth hadn't disappeared. It was just no longer meant for me.

Hearing the door open, Ethan didn't even bother to turn around. "So you finally decided to show up. Go clean the dining table." I didn't move. I walked straight toward the bedroom.

Lily walked out of the kitchen, carrying two bowls of steaming pasta.

Seeing me, she waved enthusiastically, as if she were the actual mistress of this house. "Chloe, you're back!" She walked up to me, holding the hot pasta. "Ethan made this pasta specifically for me.

Do you want to try some?" I stared at her coldly. "Move." Instead of moving aside, Lily stepped closer, crowding into my space. "Oh!" She suddenly gasped.

The bowl of scalding pasta tilted and fell straight toward my pregnant belly.

The boiling soup was about to splash onto my stomach. Instinctively, I scrambled backward. The bowl crashed onto the hardwood floor, shattering into pieces.

The sharp, piercing screech of breaking ceramic exploded in the living room. My pupils dilated. My breathing stopped. My PTSD flared up.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the floor, tightly covering my ears. My entire body began to shake violently.

Hearing the commotion, Ethan rushed out of the kitchen like a gust of wind. He didn't even look at me curling on the floor.

Instead, his first instinct was to rush over and pull the completely unharmed Lily into his arms. "Lily! Did you get burned?

Are you okay?" His voice was thick with panic and concern.

Lily leaned into his chest, shaking her head tearfully. "I'm fine... but Chloe..." Ethan snapped his head toward me, his eyes burning with disgust and fury. "Chloe!

Lily was nice enough to bring you food, and you pushed her?!" "Do you have any idea how hot this soup is? What if she got scarred?

She's just a young girl!" I raised my trembling head. My ears were still buzzing loudly, and the man's face before me blurred. This was the man I had loved for five years.

He was the one who once ran home through a thunderstorm just to hold me close and cover my ears. He had said: "Don't be scared, Chloe.

As long as I'm here, I'll never let anything frighten you." Now, for another woman, he was spitting venom at me. I bit my lip and forced myself to stand up against the wall.

I dug my nails deep into my palms, using the physical pain to claw back my sanity. "I didn't push her," I rasped, my voice raw. "She dropped the bowl herself." Hearing this, Lily's tears flowed even faster. "Chloe, how can you say that?" "I know you don't want me staying here.

You think I'm stealing Ethan's attention." "But you didn't have to do this just to kick me out." She sobbed, shrinking further behind Ethan's back. Ethan was entirely livid now.

He took a step forward and gripped my wrist with crushing force. "Chloe, when did you become so malicious?" "Lily is only twenty.

What does she even know?" "You're about to be a mother. How can your heart be this filthy?" Suddenly, I found it hilarious.

And I actually laughed out loud. "Ethan, whose heart is the filthy one here?" "Do you dare to swear that your feelings for her are strictly charity?" Ethan froze.

Guilt flickered in his eyes, which only fueled his explosive rage. "What nonsense are you talking about?!

You are completely unreasonable!" I yanked my hand back with all my might. "Since you think I'm so unreasonable, let's get a divorce." The living room fell into a dead silence.

Ethan stunned for a moment, then let out a mocking laugh. "Divorce?" "Chloe, you can't even support yourself without me.

What are you going to survive on?" "Don't think you can threaten me with divorce just to get your way.

I'm not humoring your tantrums anymore." He irritably pulled out a cigarette, then turned to Lily. "Lily, go change your clothes." "Some people have ruined the air in here.

Let me take you out for French cuisine." Lily nodded obediently. The front door slammed shut. I didn't clean up the mess on the floor.

Instead, I walked into the bedroom, packing my clothes and legal documents into a suitcase, one by one.

I found a cheap, cramped apartment to settle down.

Just as I finished unpacking, my best friend, Hazel, sent me a Snapchat video. "Chloe, look at what this greentea bitch Lily posted on her Snapchat!" The video showed Ethan's art studio.

Lily was playing with an exquisite pocket watch. Suddenly, her hand slipped. The watch hit the floor, its glass face shattering completely. That watch was our token of love.

I had spent an entire year learning watch restoration, working until my eyes bled, just to fix it for Ethan.

Lily's sweet, giggling voice came through the speaker. "Ethan, I'm so sorry. I broke the watch Chloe gave you." Ethan's voice came from offcamera, utterly indifferent. "It's fine.

Out with the old, in with the new." "I was tired of looking at it anyway. Throw it away." Then, the camera panned.

The pocket watch—which held all my love and devotion—was swept ruthlessly into the trash can. Staring at the screen, I felt a sharp pang in my chest. But it didn't hurt much.

It was mostly numb. The very last shred of love I had for him evaporated at that moment. To raise money to leave this city, I went to an art gallery I used to collaborate with.

I planned to sell a few of my awardwinning paintings from before my marriage. "Mrs.

Miller, I'm so sorry," the gallery owner said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. "All your bank accounts and credit cards have been frozen." "Even if we sell the paintings, we can't wire the money to your account." I froze.

Just then, Ethan's assistant walked out of the gallery. His tone was strictly business. "Ma'am, Mr.

Miller said..." "As long as you go back right now, apologize to Miss Evans, and admit your mistake from yesterday..." "He will unfreeze your cards immediately." Looking at the assistant, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Go back and tell Ethan." "I, Chloe Vance, will never bow down to a homewrecker." The assistant sighed. "Ma'am, why must you do this?" "Mr.

Miller said you won't last three days. He says you'll come back begging him sooner or later." I ignored him, turning on my heel to leave the gallery.

With my accounts frozen, I only had a few hundred dollars in cash. To survive, I stood under the blistering sun with my eightmonth pregnant belly, handing out flyers on the street.

Sweat soaked my clothes, and my legs felt as heavy as lead. Just as my knees were about to buckle, Lily appeared before me, clinging to Ethan's arm.

Ethan was carrying several luxury shopping bags.

Seeing my pathetic state, Ethan's brow furrowed into a tight knot. "Chloe, how long are you going to keep up this drama?" "Just to spite me, you're making a fool of yourself on the streets?

If you don't care about your dignity, I care about mine!" Lily gasped, covering her mouth. "Chloe, how can you do this kind of labor?

What if you hurt the baby?" She pulled a thick stack of hundreddollar bills from her Hermès bag. "Take this money for now.

If it's not enough, I'll ask Ethan to give you more." She stretched her hand out to hand it to me, but then she intentionally opened her fingers.

The green bills scattered all over the dirty pavement. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Chloe.

My hand slipped." "Do you mind picking them up yourself?" She giggled behind her hand, her eyes filled with mockery. I didn't bend down.

I just stared at her coldly. "Lily, you're nothing but a cheap homewrecker. Who gave you the right to flaunt yourself in front of me?" Lily's expression instantly changed.

She suddenly took a step back and threw herself onto the ground. "Chloe, I was just trying to help... why are you calling me names..." Ethan, who had just returned from buying boba, caught the tail end of this.

Seething with rage, he rushed over and shoved me hard. "Chloe, are you looking for trouble?!" I was already physically exhausted. With that violent shove, I lost my balance.

I crashed heavily onto the concrete. An agonizing, tearing pain erupted from my abdomen. I curled up in excruciating pain, cold sweat instantly drenching my entire body.

Ethan didn't even spare me a glance. He was frantically checking on the completely unharmed Lily. "Lily, are you hurt?

Does it hurt anywhere?" Clutching my stomach, I felt a warm, thick rush of liquid flowing down my thighs. Crimson blood stained my dress. "Ethan..." "Stop faking it!

I barely pushed you. Get up right now and apologize to Lily!"

Pain. It felt like someone was dragging a rusty saw back and forth inside my abdomen.

The agony was so intense I was on the verge of blacking out, my vision fading to gray. "Ethan... save my baby..." With the last of my strength, I reached my hand out to the man whose back was turned to me. "Chloe, it's a shame you aren't in Hollywood with acting skills like that." Ethan looked back at me, his eyes devoid of any warmth. "Using fake blood packets just to force me to compromise?" "Let me tell you, if you don't apologize to Lily today, don't even dream of me taking you back!" The crowd of onlookers grew larger.

Finally, a pedestrian couldn't stand it anymore. "Hey, buddy! Your wife is actually bleeding! Look at the ground!" "There are two lives at stake here!

Call 911!" Ethan followed the pedestrian's pointing finger. When his eyes landed on the pooling crimson on the concrete, panic finally flashed across his face.

But Lily immediately grabbed his arm, letting out a weak whimper. "Ethan... my ankle hurts so bad. I think I sprained it..." Ethan's attention was instantly pulled back.

He gritted his teeth and scooped Lily into his arms. "Chloe, I'll call an ambulance for you.

Go to the hospital first, and I'll be there soon." With that, he carried Lily away, never once looking back. A kind stranger called 911 for me. My consciousness began to slip away.

Memories flashed in my mind like a broken reel. Our first wedding anniversary. To accommodate my illness, he had rented out an entire amusement park.

He set off a silent light show of quiet fireworks just for me. He kissed me under the brilliant, silent lights.

He had whispered that I was his one and only muse for the rest of his life. The bubble of memory burst.

The image of him covering Lily's ears replayed in my head, like a sharp dagger twisting in my heart. It brought an unbearable, suffocating pain.

At the hospital, the doctors rushed me into the emergency room. "Severe hemorrhage! The patient is in critical condition!" "Prepare for emergency surgery immediately!

Get the consent form!" The nurse tried to call my emergency contact—Ethan. "The number you have dialed is currently switched off..." The doctor walked to my bedside with a grave expression. "Mrs.

Miller, we can't reach your family." "But we must operate immediately, or we won't be able to save either you or the baby." Fighting for my very last breath, I grabbed the pen.

With trembling fingers, I scribbled my signature on the consent form. "Doctor," I choked out, grabbing his sleeve as my tears finally spilled over. "If... if you can't save both..." "Just save me.

I want to live." I couldn't die. After a grueling surgery, I was wheeled into the ICU. As the anesthesia wore off, I reached for my phone on the bedside table.

The screen lit up with an Instagram notification—a post from Lily. In the photo, Ethan was kneeling, gently applying ice to her ankle.

The caption read: No matter what, Ethan will always put me first. ❤️ Staring at the photo, my heart went completely cold.

I dialed Hazel's number. "Hazel, help me get out of the country." "Take me away. I never want to see him again."