Hollow Love
Chapter 1
Eight years into our marriage, my husband,
Ethan Riverwood, and his assistant, Chloe,
made a big, flashy announcement on their
Instagram stories: “Ship us! We’re super
sweet!”
I liked the post, and then, poof! It vanished.
Ethan called on video chat, yelling at me in
front of Chloe–who was crying and a bunch
of their friends. He called me humorless and
stupid.
Five minutes later, Chloe’s Instagram story
background was a close–up photo of her and
Ethan, all snuggled up.
In the past, I would have stormed over there,
cried, screamed, made a huge scene, and
generally made everyone miserable.
This time? I didn’t give a damn.
Ethan got home while I was cleaning up the
dinner dishes and cake.
It was his birthday yesterday.
He’d said he was bringing some friends over
to celebrate.
I even took half a day off work and spent the
whole afternoon preparing everything.
But I waited the entire night, and he never
showed.
If I hadn’t seen Chloe’s Instagram story, I
wouldn’t even have known he changed his
plans.
“You made the cake yourself?”
Ethan smeared some frosting on my face.
When I nodded, he smirked.
“That’s why it’s so ugly.”
Before, that would have sent me into a
defensive rant.
Now? I couldn’t be bothered.
Watching me clean, Ethan’s brow furrowed
slightly.
“Nina, I got you some seafood porridge.”
“I saw it.”
Ethan always brought something to eat home
after he yelled at me.
It was our unspoken truce signal.
“I’ll heat it up for you.”
Before I could refuse, he was already in the
kitchen.
Ten minutes later, I smelled burning.
Ethan didn’t come out of the bedroom, so I
had to turn off the stove.
While I was ladling the porridge, Ethan’s
phone buzzed. It was a message from Chloe.
“Ethan honey, thank you, last night was
amazing~”
Before I could look away, his cold voice cut
through the air.
“Who told you to look at my phone?”
“I didn’t… Ouch!”
Ethan slammed into my back, full of rage.
L
The hot porridge I was holding spilled,
burning my left hand.
Ethan looked at me like I was an idiot and
offered to take me to the hospital.
The pain was real, so I didn’t make a fuss and
went with him.
As soon as we got in the car, I saw it: a
custom–made car sticker that said, “Chloe’s
Special Throne.”
Ethan’s face changed.
“Chloe put that on as a joke.”
I calmly replied, “Oh, it’s cute.”
A tense silence filled the car.
Ethan looked at me strangely.
“Aren’t you going to take it off?”
I blinked.
Why would I?
Oh, right. Before, I would have ripped off
anything another woman left in his car.
But now? I didn’t even care about Ethan
<
But now? I didn’t even care about Ethan
anymore.
Why would I care about some random chick?
“Let’s just get to the hospital. I have to go to
work.”
My quiet urging made him drive faster and
steadier.
Just before we reached the hospital, Ethan’s
phone rang. It was Chloe’s ringtone.
Chloe whined that she’d had too much to
drink and had a terrible headache, and
couldn’t sleep.
After hanging up, Ethan didn’t even look at
- me. He turned the car towards Chloe’s
apartment complex.
He pulled out the hangover medicine I’d
prepared for him from the glove
compartment. He said, with a dismissive tone,
“I left some files at Chloe’s. I’ll be right down.”
Then, he locked the car and went upstairs.
An hour passed silently.
Baking in the hot car, I almost passed out
from dehydration before Ethan came back.
I used the car’s emergency hammer to smash
the window, crawled out, and, with the help of
a kind security guard, finally made it to the
hospital.
That night, Ethan came home and saw me
eating takeout.
“Nina, why didn’t you order for me?”
He knew my hand was hurt; I couldn’t cook.
But why didn’t I order for him? He’d texted
me half an hour ago, saying he was coming
home.
For eight years, I responded to Ethan’s texts
instantly.
He didn’t expect my indifferent shrug. “My
phone was charging. I didn’t see your
message.”
Ethan clutched a gift bag, his lips pursed. He
<
puy,
held it up to me.
“I remembered your perfume was almost
empty.”
Looking up from my food, meeting his
condescending gaze, I said politely, and
distantly,
