Isabella sent the bookstore address to Cynthia, then rushed back as fast as she could.
She was barely at the front door when someone called her name.
It was Ethan—her so-called husband.
He hadn’t left after all. Had he really been waiting here the entire time? Didn’t he have anything better to do?
Ever since she came back to life, Isabella kept noticing that Ethan, who used to work from dawn till dusk, not even sparing his weekends, suddenly seemed to have a lot of free time. The CEO of The Adams Group, loafing around like this? It made no sense.
While Isabella was busy complaining in her head, Ethan walked right up to her. He was taller than her, with this intense vibe that made it impossible to ignore him. His handsome face looked even more serious than usual, and the way he stared at her was almost intimidating.
“Why are you still here?” she asked, frowning. “Ethan, have you been slacking off? You seem really free these days.”
He looked down at her and said, “The economy’s only going to get worse in a couple of years. Even the big companies will struggle. If you have a job, you should value it, work hard, and save what you can.”
Save more money, she thought, so when we get divorced, he’ll have more to split with me.
Ethan reached out and tapped her on the forehead. “What are you, a fortune teller? How do you know things will get tougher in two years?”

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