Chapter 71
Chapter 71
Chloe froze mid–spoonful when she saw Ian’s message.
Ian never did anything without a reason.
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Her lawyer had already handed all the divorce evidence to the court, and the trial was set for next week.
The only explanation she could think of: he’d taken a late–night flight to Tecnovia to protect his name–and the woman he cared about–hoping to convince her to drop the lawsuit.
After a long pause, Chloe set down her pie, turned off every light in the apartment, and retreated to her bedroom.
But just as she was about to climb into bed, her phone rang.
It was her female neighbor–a colleague from the hospital–calling to ask if she was home, and to say someone was waiting at her door.
Chloe sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, her mind racing. Then she stood up.
Everyone in this building worked at the hospital.
It was late, and she couldn’t risk disturbing her coworkers.
Besides, she hadn’t done anything wrong–and running wouldn’t fix anything.
Taking a deep breath, Chloe walked to the door and pulled it open. Ian’s intense gaze met hers immediately.
They stared at each other in silence, the moment stretching out between them.
The Chloe who used to be bubbly and clingy, lighting up with nonstop chatter whenever lan was near, now stood quiet just inside the doorway.
The Ian who used to be stoic and distant, cold and passive around her, now stood on her threshold–holding a cake.
They froze there: she just inside, he just outside.
Jan looked at her and said, “Happy birthday.”
Chloe’s gaze dropped to the cake.
Ian noticed and glanced down at it too.
Memories hit her like a punch: the sunlit beach, the cruise ship, the bouquets, the blueberry cake, and that Instagram post dripping with his love for someone else.
Her heart clenched, sharp and tight, and the color drained from her face.
13:29 Thu, Oct 2
Chapter 71
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Ian’s voice was soft, almost tentative. “It’s your favorite. Red velvet. I picked it up from that little patisserie in Kingsford–the one you always said was the best.”
Chloe pointed toward the doorway, her face blank. “Get that cake out of here.
Ian’s brow furrowed, but he took a step inside anyway.
That single step across her threshold snapped something inside her.
She rushed forward, grabbing for the box in his hands, her voice rising sharply. “I said take it away!”
Ian quickly set the cake down on the console table and shut the door behind him.
He caught her wrist, his grip firm, and forced her to meet his gaze.
“I caught a red–eye flying here on your birthday,” he said, his voice low but intense. “And this is the welcome I get?”
Chloe’s eyes locked onto the cake box, its cheerful string and elegant sticker taunting her. A raw, uncontrollable wave of emotion broke over her.
She lunged for it like something possessed, her hands trembling as she tried to seize it and fling it across the room. Ian caught her, wrapping his arms around her in a vise–like hug, pinning her arms to her sides as she struggled.
They were locked in a desperate, silent stalemate—a brutal tug–of–war with nowhere to go.
Chloe thrashed in Ian’s arms, her voice sharp with fury. “I don’t want you here for my birthday–not now, not ever! And I am definitely not eating that cake!”
Ian’s hand came up, his fingers gripping the nape of her neck, forcing her to look at him.
His tone was low and measured. “We’re husband and wife, Chloe. Not enemies. How long are you going to keep this war going?”
Tears welled in her red–rimmed eyes, but her glare was pure ice.
“The day you secretly baked that blueberry cake for your precious Andrea was the day you stopped being my husband. So don’t you dare fake it now.”
They stood close, her words hanging in the narrow space between them. Ian froze, the air catching in his chest.
Then, almost reflexively, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
His voice was a rough whisper against her ear. “The moment I married you, I chose forever. You are my wife. That hasn’t changed.”
He rubbed a soothing hand down her back. “I brought you a birthday gift. Will you let me show you?”
As he loosened his hold to reach into his pocket, Chloe wrenched herself free.
13:30 Thu, Oct 2
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Chapter 71
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She stumbled back, putting cold, deliberate distance between them, her eyes glacial.
“Ian, whether it’s a gift or a person, I only want what is exclusively mine. Untainted. One–of–a–kind.”
Her voice didn’t waver. “Anything that comes from you… I don’t want it.”
Ian’s hand, nestled in his pocket, grew rigid. Fingers brushing the small box, he hesitated, then slowly drew his hand out–empty.
He just stood there, watching her, the silence thickening into something suffocating.
“Just tell me what you want,” he finally pleaded, his voice strained. “What will it take for this to be over?”
Chloe took another step back, her resolve hardening.
“The lies. The cake. That gushing Instagram post for her, the child… None of it just goes away because you want it to, Ian.”
His gaze darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes.
He took a step forward. “Chloe, if you want to get past this, we can. We can get through anything.”
“I don’t want to!” The words were nearly a shout as she recoiled.
Defeat etched itself into the lines of his face.
He reached for her hand, but she shoved him away, her voice raw. “My lawyer has already submitted the evidence of your affair to the court. Skip the hearing next week, and I promise, you haven’t even begun to see what I’m capable of.”
Ian’s brow furrowed deeply. “You gathered evidence?”
“Sign the divorce papers without a fight,” she stated, her tone frigid and unyielding, “and none of the evidence ever has to see the light of day.”
The standoff was a physical weight in the room.
Without another word, Ian turned, picked up the cake box, and left, placing it outside the door.
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