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I looked silently at this man who had once adored me deeply, who had never argued or raised his voice at me—now his face was filled with dissatisfaction, and even a hint of warning in his eyes.
As if daring me to say no one more time, he'd make me regret it for her sake.
So I stayed silent.
I watched helplessly as Chloe moved in with bags and suitcases filling the space that once belonged only to Alexander, me, and a few housekeepers.
Worried she wouldn't sleep well or feel comfortable, Alexander even placed her room right next to our master suite—just so he could take care of her at a moment’s notice.
That night, after comforting Chloe to sleep, Alexander held my hand and said, "I knew you'd agree, Eleanor. You truly are the person who loves me most in this world. I won't let you down."
Having said that, he fell into a deep sleep as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.
But I didn't sleep all night.
Alexander didn't realize that when a man says "I won't let you down," it usually means he's already preparing to do exactly that—he's just softening the blow in advance.
The day after Chloe moved in,
Alexander threw her a welcome home party at our place.
All our friends and acquaintances were invited.
Chloe wore a pure white cocktail dress, clinging to Alexander's arm like a proud swan standing beside him.
I was supposed to be Alexander's wife—one of the hosts of this house.
But now I could only behind them like an outsider, watching as Alexander introduced Chloe to every guest, asking them to look out for her.
Chloe was surrounded by everyone’s attention and sympathy, her eyes sparkling with barely concealed joy and a hint of shyness—nothing like someone struggling with depression.
I watched it all coldly, feeling nothing but absurdity.
Halfway through the party, I couldn't stand the pitying looks anymore and turned to leave—but Alexander stopped me.
"Eleanor, we're running low on wine downstairs. Could you go down to the cellar and bring up a few more bottles of red? Oh, and maybe whip up a couple of appetizers—the chilled shrimp you make is amazing. Chloe mentioned yesterday she'd love to try it."
There were other staff in the house, but he chose to order me around in front of all our guests.
After marrying him, even in front of his parents, he never let me step into the kitchen.
He said he married me so I could enjoy life—not to work.
But now, he wanted me to cook for her?
For a moment, I thought I'd misheard.
Right then, I couldn't help doubting how genuine Alexander's declarations of love over the past three years really were.
Maybe he never truly loved me—he just needed a perfect wife to provide him with respectability, take care of everything, and manage his life seamlessly.
Now that Chloe had taken my place as the one who complemented his image, all I was left with was the caretaker function.
That realization made my heart ache so much I trembled.
Clenching my fists, I stared straight at him and shook my head firmly, "No, I won't do it."
He could disrespect me, but I would protect my own dignity.
Alexander's smile stiffened, and he glared at me, displeased.
"I'll go get it," Chloe volunteered brightly.
She bit her lip, leaning toward me as if speaking quietly, "Eleanor, don't make a fuss over something so small in front of everyone."
I glanced at her but stayed silent.
Chloe's face paled, her eyes instantly filling with tears,
"Why are you ignoring me?"
"Do you hate me that much?"
"I guess I should’ve just stayed alone... I shouldn't have come looking for Alex, and I definitely shouldn't have stolen your spotlight at the party... I... I'll leave!"
Chloe was like a cheap time bomb, exploding without anyone touching her.
She ran off crying.
Alexander rushed after her, throwing back an angry reproach，
"Don't you know how sensitive Chloe is right now? Why did you have to target her like that!"
