Chapter 4: The Last Promise Broken

Madeline breathed a sigh of relief, a relaxed smile appearing on her face. “I didn’t expect you to actually come tonight, so I’ll only give you half your punishment, tonight—”

She slipped her arm through mine, her head resting on my shoulder like nothing had happened. I could smell the cheap cologne clinging to her skin. The scent made my stomach churn and my skin crawl.

I tried to breathe through my mouth, focusing on the cool night air. The world felt unreal, like I was watching someone else’s life play out in front of me.

Watching her mouth move, I couldn’t help but picture the moment before, when another man was kissing her there. Disgust rose inside me. I wanted to disappear.

I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. I wanted to run, to scream, to disappear. But all I could do was stand there, numb and silent.

I quickly turned my head and bit down hard on my tongue. I couldn’t throw up—I couldn’t lose control!

I tasted blood, sharp and metallic. It grounded me, kept me from falling apart in front of all those strangers.

“Ethan, babe, what’s wrong?”

Madeline’s voice was soft, almost pleading. She squeezed my arm, searching my face for reassurance. The crowd began to shift, their curiosity morphing into judgment. I wanted to shrink away.

Madeline anxiously shook my shoulders. The crowd around us began to stir, hungry for drama.

I felt their eyes on me—some sympathetic, most not. The whispers grew louder, crueler. My skin prickled with shame.

I heard someone whisper, “So he’s the live-in husband, the gold-digger Miss Carter married!”

The words stung, sharper than any slap. I’d heard the rumors before, but tonight they felt heavier, more real.

“So shameless, he can even put up with being cheated on.”

Their laughter was cold, echoing in my ears. I wanted to shout, to tell them they didn’t know the whole story. But what good would it do?

“Might as well call him Doormat from now on.”

The nickname hung in the air, a brand I couldn’t shake. My chest ached. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could disappear.

I closed my eyes in pain. I’d heard these voices ever since I met Madeline.

But tonight, they sounded especially harsh.

Every word felt like a knife, reopening wounds I’d tried so hard to heal. I wondered if they’d ever see me as anything but a charity case.

I wanted to argue, to loudly ask what these people really knew!

My fists clenched, jaw tight. I wanted to defend myself, to shout that they were wrong. But all the words caught in my throat.

But in the end, all my resentment, anger, and sadness turned into chains that bound me again. I forced myself to hold back, took Madeline’s hand, and said, “Let’s go home.”

My voice was flat, emotionless. I didn’t trust myself to say anything more.

“Okay.”

Madeline agreed right away, but turned to look behind her, as if searching for something. “Tyler, it’s so late. If you go back, you’ll disturb your roommates. Come with me.”

She waved at the young man, her smile bright and careless. I felt a fresh wave of anger rise in my chest, but I swallowed it down.

“Ethan, don’t overthink it. Tyler just caught my eye, I see him as a little brother.”

She laughed, brushing off my concern. But her words felt hollow, rehearsed. I didn’t believe her—not anymore.

Madeline still offered me an explanation, but I couldn’t even fake a smile.

My lips barely twitched. I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur by.

As soon as I got in the car, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. When we arrived at the mansion, I ignored Madeline and Tyler, went straight inside, and collapsed onto the soft, oversized bed.

The sheets were cool against my skin, the room silent except for the distant hum of the city. For the first time all night, I let myself breathe.

The bedding smelled of Madeline’s favorite perfume. I finally felt like I could breathe again.

The scent was familiar, comforting and painful all at once. I buried my face in the pillow, wishing I could disappear into sleep and forget everything that had happened.

But before I could calm down, the bedroom door slammed open. Madeline’s angry voice rang out: “Ethan, what’s with your cold attitude and silent treatment?”

Her heels clicked across the floor, sharp and purposeful. She stood over me, arms crossed, eyes blazing with frustration.

“When we got together, you said I was perfect in every way. It hasn’t even been a year since we got married, and you’re already tired of me? You don’t want me anymore?”

Her voice wavered, just a little. Like a child denied her favorite toy.

“Get up!”

She yanked at the covers, her patience gone. I tried to sit up, but my body felt like lead.

“You have to explain yourself to me today!”

She grabbed my arm, shaking me. I wanted to answer, to tell her everything I was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come.

Madeline came over and tried to drag me up. I wanted to respond, but all my strength had been drained when I collapsed.

My limbs were heavy, my mind foggy. I barely registered her touch.

I couldn’t move. Madeline, thinking I was deliberately ignoring her, got even angrier.

She let out a frustrated sigh, her grip tightening. I could feel her anger radiating off her in waves.

She grabbed the lamp from the bedside table and swung it at me, aiming for my head.

For a split second, I saw the lamp arcing through the air, the base glinting in the light. Instinct took over.

I struggled to lift my hand—the one that had just had an IV—and blocked it. The lamp tilted and hit my shoulder instead.

Pain shot through my arm, sharp and immediate. The lamp crashed to the floor, shards scattering across the rug.

The back of my hand was sliced by the lamp’s decoration, blood gushing from a deep wound. Madeline’s face went pale. “Ethan, you…”

Her eyes widened in horror, hands trembling. For a moment, all the fight drained out of her.

Tyler had come in at some point and shouted dramatically, “Man, you’re so manipulative!”

He barged into the room, voice dripping with self-righteousness. He looked at me like I was the villain in his story.

“You know Maddie’s family is strict, yet you pretend to be hurt by her, hoping she’ll get chewed out, hoping she’ll have problems with her parents so you can play the good guy—is that it?”

He jabbed a finger in my direction, voice rising. I could see the anger in his eyes, the certainty that he was in the right.

“You’re so scheming!”

He spat the word like an accusation, as if he could see straight through me.

“Lucky for me, I’m not like you. I only want to treat Maddie right.”

He put an arm around Madeline, pulling her close. I saw her hesitate, torn between us.

Tyler’s words hit the sore spot between Madeline and me. I’m an orphan; Madeline grew up rich.

The old insecurities flared up again. I’d always felt like an outsider in her world, and Tyler was only too happy to remind me.

There’s a world of difference between us. That’s why her family was firmly against us at first.

Her parents had made it clear from day one—I wasn’t good enough for their daughter. They’d tried to break us up, but Madeline had fought for me, stubborn as ever.

Later, they couldn’t stand Madeline’s tantrums and my willingness to be a live-in husband, so they reluctantly agreed. Her parents thought that after marriage, Madeline would settle down.

They hoped I’d tame her wild spirit, that marriage would turn her into the perfect daughter. But things didn’t go the way anyone planned.

But I spent most of my time in the lab, desperate to achieve results, and neglected Madeline. She started seeking out men to fill her loneliness.

I’d told myself it was temporary, that once I made a breakthrough, I’d have more time for her. But science is greedy—it always wants more.

Of course, her parents couldn’t accept this and scolded Madeline many times, both openly and privately. Madeline suspected I was tattling on her.

She’d glare at me after every argument with her parents, accusing me with her eyes. I never defended myself. Maybe I should have.

At first, when she got scolded, she’d cling to me even more. But after it happened over and over, she got annoyed and always took it out on me.

Her affection turned to resentment, her smiles to sighs. I watched her slip away, powerless to stop it.

I felt guilty, thinking I hadn’t given her enough emotional support, which made her lonely and empty, so I never explained or talked back. I just threw myself even more into my work.

Work became my refuge, the only place I felt in control. Every late night was an escape from the mess I couldn’t fix at home.

I thought that once the artificial cornea was successfully developed and I became famous, I wouldn’t feel guilty standing by her side anymore. Then I could put everything down and be with her.

I pictured the headlines, the awards, the moment I could finally look her parents in the eye and say I was worthy. But the closer I got, the further Madeline seemed to drift.

I always thought there was still time. We had time.

I clung to that hope, telling myself tomorrow would be better. But tomorrow never came.

But Tyler’s arrival was like a bucket of cold water, dousing the fire in my heart. That night, Madeline didn’t stay in the master bedroom.

I lay awake, listening to the silence, the ache in my hand a dull throb. The emptiness beside me felt colder than ever.

No one treated the wound on my hand. In the middle of the night, I woke up half-conscious to find a large patch of blood on Madeline’s favorite midnight rose duvet cover.

The sight jolted me awake. I pressed a towel to the wound, but the blood kept coming, soaking through the fabric.

Maddie would definitely be angry when she saw it in the morning, I thought.

I pictured her scolding me, her voice sharp with annoyance. The thought made me smile, bitter and small.

So I struggled to get up, swaying as I tried to get a new set to replace it. But my steps faltered and I crashed into the door of the walk-in closet attached to the master bedroom.

Pain shot through my shoulder as I stumbled, the world spinning around me. I braced myself against the door, trying to catch my breath.

The door swung open a crack. Warm yellow light spilled out, painting the white carpet with a wash of honey.

I squinted, confused. The light was too bright, too inviting. I took a step closer, heart pounding.

Then, I heard a moan—thick and sweet as honey—ring in my ears. Madeline was lying half-lidded on the white shag carpet, her long neck tense with desire.

The sound froze me in place. My mind struggled to make sense of what I was seeing.

Tyler was kneeling in front of her, sweating, calling out: “Maddie, does it feel good?”

His voice was low, intimate. I felt sick, bile rising in my throat.

“Maddie, compared to your weak husband, aren’t I amazing?”

He smirked, his words a knife twisting in my gut. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

“If you kick him out, I can make you feel this kind of pleasure every day. With a beauty like you, I’d never leave you alone like he does.”

His hands roamed her body, possessive and bold. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

Madeline’s eyes snapped open, her nails digging into Tyler’s flesh. “Say one more thing about Ethan and get out of Maple Heights!”

Her voice was sharp, commanding. For a moment, I saw a flash of the woman I’d fallen in love with—fierce, loyal, unwilling to let anyone insult me, even now.

Tyler shut up. The only sounds left were moans and gasps from the closet.

I stood in the hallway, frozen, every sound a fresh wound. The world narrowed to the rhythm of their breathing, the slap of skin against skin.

After who knows how long, Tyler suggested with a grin, “Maddie, let’s do something exciting.”

He sounded eager, reckless. I felt my stomach twist.

“I’ll carry you to the bed.”

He reached for her, hands sliding under her shoulders.

“No, Ethan’s here,” Madeline said, her voice flat.

“That’s the point. Isn’t he cold and distant? Let him see how attractive you are to another man!” Tyler tempted her, like the serpent tempting Eve in the Garden of Eden.

His words dripped with malice. I felt my hands shake, rage and despair battling inside me.

This time, Madeline was silent for a long time. Finally, she said, “Too lazy to move. Let’s just stay here.”

Her indifference stung more than any insult. I turned away, unable to watch any longer.

Tyler made a sound I didn’t like. Maybe I heard it wrong.

I didn’t want to know what they were doing. I just wanted to be anywhere but here.

They started again. Bile burned the back of my throat.

I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to scream. My vision blurred, the edges of the world going dark.

I moved my numb body, using my cold fingers to brace against the wall, slowly leaving the room. I’d meant to go downstairs to find the first aid kit, but I missed a step and tumbled down the stairs.

My body hit the hardwood with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in my shoulder, my head spinning. I heard someone shout my name, but it sounded far away.

The noise startled the two in the closet. “Ethan!”

Madeline’s voice was shrill, panicked. I saw her silhouette at the top of the stairs, Tyler hovering behind her.

I saw Madeline run out in a panic. My lips moved as if to say something, but I fainted before I could speak.

The world faded to black, the pain receding into nothingness.

But it’s okay. I’d already messaged Mrs. Carter. I want to divorce Madeline.

I’d sent the text before everything fell apart, my hands shaking as I typed. It was done. There was no going back.

“You never take care of yourself. Research is important, but your health comes first!”

Mrs. Carter’s voice was sharp, nagging. She hovered by my hospital bed, fussing over my bandages and scolding me for working too hard.

“And look at you—malnourished, too. What will people think of our Carter family? People who don’t know will think we mistreat you, abuse you.”

She tsked, shaking her head. I stared at the ceiling, tuning her out. It was easier that way.

In the VIP ward, Mrs. Carter kept lecturing me.

The room was too bright, the sheets too crisp. I felt like an imposter in someone else’s life.

From half-conscious to fully awake, she talked for nearly an hour. I ignored her and looked at Mr. Carter, sitting on the sofa with a stern face. “Dad—”

He didn’t look at me, his jaw clenched. I could feel the disappointment radiating off him.

“Ethan, before you married Maddie, you knelt before us and promised to treat her well.”

His voice was cold, unforgiving. I remembered that night—me on one knee, swearing I’d make her happy, no matter what.

“Now you want a divorce over a small conflict?”

He spat the words, as if infidelity and betrayal were just minor inconveniences.

“What do you take marriage for? What do you take Maddie for?”

His eyes bored into mine, daring me to answer. I had nothing to say.

Mr. Carter grew angrier, slamming the table hard. Mrs. Carter cried out in surprise. “Divorce?”

The sound echoed in the small room, making me flinch. Mrs. Carter looked at me like I’d just confessed to murder.

“Ethan, how can you do this? Do you know how much Maddie has suffered for you? You can’t be so heartless!”

Her voice trembled, tears welling in her eyes. I wondered if she’d ever truly seen me, or if I was just another problem to be managed.

“I knew it—men shouldn’t have careers. Once they achieve something, they get arrogant. Carter, call the institute and have Ethan’s job terminated. Let him stay at home from now on and take care of Maddie.”

She pulled out her phone, dialing with shaking hands. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Mrs. Carter gave orders, then tried to persuade me earnestly: “Ethan, be grateful. You’re just a poor orphan from the foster system; you had nothing. Only by clinging to our Maddie did you get to live like this…”

Her words were like poison, each one a reminder of my place in their world. I clenched my fists, willing myself not to snap.

Sharp pains throbbed at my temples. I’d heard these words countless times before.

But today, I felt especially angry. “Enough!”

My voice rang out, sharper than I intended. The room fell silent, everyone staring at me in shock.

Madeline came in carrying a thermos, her face twisted as she pushed open the ward door. “Ethan is still a patient. Can’t you treat him better?”

She set the thermos on the nightstand, glaring at her parents. For a moment, I saw a flicker of the woman I’d loved—fierce, protective, unwilling to let anyone hurt me.

Mrs. Carter was so angry she almost fainted. “We’re not good to him? He’s a poor boy with no background or money. If not for the Carter family, could he have even gotten into the lab?”

She fanned herself, eyes wide with indignation. I bit back a retort, knowing it would only make things worse.

Mr. Carter’s face darkened. “Maddie, your kindness will only make some people take advantage! You probably don’t know, but Ethan wants to divorce you!”

He glared at me, daring me to deny it. I met his gaze, unflinching. For the first time, I felt something close to freedom—a sense that, maybe, I could finally walk away.