When Love Turns to Ashes Chapter 5

Ethan spent another week in the hospital.

During that week, he became like a soulless puppet, eating on schedule, taking his medicine, accepting treatment.

He didn't cry, didn't make a fuss, barely spoke at all.

When nurses came to change his dressings, he cooperated quietly. When staff brought food, he mechanically put it in his mouth, tasting nothing. The hollow space in his chest seemed filled with nothing but numb, frozen emptiness.

On the day of his discharge, the weather was oppressively gray, storm clouds pressing down, making it hard to breathe.

Ethan handled the discharge paperwork himself and stood outside the hospital entrance about to call a car when a familiar black Bentley pulled up in front of him.

The window lowered, revealing Victoria's cool profile. And in her passenger seat sat Luke.

Ethan froze, his blood seeming to freeze instantly.

Victoria's gaze swept over Ethan's pale, gaunt face. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly before returning to cold indifference.

"Get in." Her voice held no warmth, matching the miserable weather.

Ethan didn't move, his nails digging into his palms.

Luke spoke up: "Mr. Brooks, please get in. It's windy out here. I know... there have been a lot of misunderstandings. I hope you won't hold them against Victoria."

Hearing this, Victoria glanced at Luke, her expression softening slightly. When she turned back to Ethan, she was cold and hard again. "If Luke hadn't insisted, I wouldn't have come for you. Ethan, Luke is my bottom line. Just be my husband and stop trying to hurt him."

Be her "husband"?

Ethan laughed bitterly.

He didn't want to say anything more or have any further connection with this woman. He walked around the car, trying to leave.

"Ethan!" Victoria shoved open the car door, grabbed his wrist hard enough to make him wince. "Have you made enough of a scene? Get in the car!"

Her tone was impatient, as if all his resistance was just childish tantrum.

Ethan tried to pull away, but she gripped too tightly. Just out of the hospital, his body was weak. In the end, she shoved him into the back seat.

The car moved smoothly. Ethan turned his head to watch the rapidly retreating scenery, deliberately ignoring the jarring intimacy in the front seat.

Luke spoke softly to Victoria: "Victoria, I think I caught a cold last night. My head's a little dizzy."

Victoria immediately reached over to feel his forehead, her voice the tender tone Ethan hadn't heard in so long. "Why didn't you say something earlier? We'll have the private doctor check you when we get back."

"It's fine, probably just didn't sleep well." Luke grasped her hand.

Victoria didn't pull away. Instead, she adjusted her position, and they laced their fingers together.

Ethan's heart felt like it was being pierced by countless fine needles, the pain almost making him curl up.

Once upon a time, if he so much as coughed, she'd be frantic with worry, staying up all night to care for him, personally administering his medicine.

Now, all her anxiety and tenderness belonged to another man.

Just then, Luke suddenly made a small sound of surprise, looking out the window. "Oh no, it's raining! Victoria, I left my clothes drying on the balcony this morning! That's my favorite jacket..."

Raindrops began pelting the car windows, quickly forming a curtain of water.

Victoria barely hesitated. She turned on the blinker and pulled the car to the side of the elevated highway.

She looked back at the pale-faced Ethan in the rear seat. "Get a cab home. I'm taking Luke back to get his clothes."

Ethan's head jerked up, staring at her in disbelief. The elevated highway? In the rain? Make him find his own ride?

Victoria apparently saw nothing wrong with her decision. When he didn't move, she frowned and added: "Did you hear me?"

Luke also turned around, his face showing apologetic concern, but his eyes held a glint of unmistakable smugness. "Mr. Brooks, I'm really sorry... Tomorrow's my birthday. Victoria made reservations at The Riverside—just the three of us for dinner. It's meant to help us all reconcile after everything. You have to come."

Without answering, Ethan forcefully slammed the car door.

The black sedan didn't pause, merging into traffic and quickly disappearing into the rain.

Ethan stood on the high bridge in the pouring rain.

He tried flagging down cars, but none stopped.

The freezing rain soaked through his clothes, cold seeping into his bones.

He could only walk, step by step, along the bridge's edge, stumbling toward home.

By the time he finally made it to the mansion, he was drenched and shivering uncontrollably.

That night, he developed a high fever, his consciousness swimming in and out.

The housekeeper frantically kept calling Victoria, but the phone went unanswered.