(Emily's POV)
Ava's eyes narrowed at the sight of Ethan and Sophia together. The disdain was palpable in her gaze, and I could almost feel the weight of her judgment.
Coldly, she said, "We're not selling the violin."
Sophia's brows twitched slightly as her gaze shifted immediately to me, standing beside Ava.
Sophia was beautiful in a delicate, refined way—her soft features exuded a gentle charm. But I... I was different. I stood taller, more composed, with a presence that demanded attention.
I had the kind of elegance that made you take notice without needing to speak a word.
The moment Sophia laid eyes on me, I saw a glint of something dark in her expression. She quickly walked up to me, her face softening as she spoke with what seemed to be a hint of desperation.
"Emily, is this violin yours? Would it be possible to lend it to me for a while?"
She hesitated, glancing at Ethan as if drawing strength from him.
"You see, Ethan and I first met because of the violin," she continued, her voice soft, almost too sweet. "I was practicing in the garden one day, and he heard me. He was so captivated by the music that he came to find me... we've been together ever since. He used to love hearing me play."
Sophia's eyes flickered to the violin, and she added, "I don't know how much longer I have, Emily. But I want to hold one last concert, using this violin... before it's too late."
It was a familiar line. I'd heard it countless times—the sick, dying woman asking for just one last wish, as if her time left on Earth somehow made her desires more valid than anyone else's.
Then, whether it was intentional or not, Sophia tilted her head, letting the light catch on the necklace around her neck—the same one I had recognized all too well.
I could feel my heart tighten as the familiar gold chain caught the light, sparkling like it had just been given to her.
"Let me guess," I said coldly, my voice sharp. "Should I just ignore the fact that every person who's sick deserves my patience and sympathy? Do I need to bend over backward every time someone with a terminal illness crosses my path?"
Sophia's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as her lips quivered. I couldn't tell if it was genuine emotion or just another performance.
Ethan's voice was icy. "Emily, it's just a violin. Why do you have to make this a bigger deal than it is? If you want one, I'll buy you another."
I looked at him with a biting smile. "It's just a violin. But why does she need this one? Why can't she have one you buy for her instead?"
Sophia's voice dropped, pleading. "Emily, please. What do we need to do for you to lend it to me? Any condition, just name it."
Name the conditions? As if it were a mere bargaining chip.
I gave a quiet, mocking laugh. "Sophia, you seem to really like the things my mother left behind, don't you? First it's my mother's necklace, and now you want my mother's violin?"
Sophia looked confused, as if the words didn't quite sink in. "I don't understand, Emily. What are you implying?"
I stared at her, a cold, bitter smile curling my lips. "This violin was my mother's, and so was the necklace you're wearing."
Sophia's face drained of color. "I—I had no idea it belonged to your mother..."
She hesitated, her voice faltering. "Yesterday, Caleb gave me a gift box with the necklace inside. I thought it was from Ethan, and I wore it without knowing it was your mother's..."
I let out a small, humorless laugh. "So now that you know, would you mind giving it back to me?"
Sophia touched the necklace around her neck, biting her lip, her eyes starting to brim with tears. She glanced at Ethan with a pleading expression.
"Ethan, since Emily asked... maybe we can just give it back to her? I don't want her to be upset over something so small."
"Give it back?" I muttered. "You mean 'return' it, don't you?"
The subtle but unmistakable implication was that, even though it was mine, it didn't belong to me anymore. Sophia had simply decided she would "give it back" out of some show of magnanimity, as if I had no real claim to it.
Ethan, who had been quiet for a moment, spoke up. "Don't worry, Emily. It's already yours. The necklace is yours."
Sophia's expression softened, her eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and guilt.
As the scene played out, I felt a cold calm settling in. The anger was no longer there—it had long been replaced by a deep, empty resignation.
I turned to the shop manager, who was standing quietly by. "I believe the authorization for this violin ends today. Please take it down. I'll be taking it with me."
The shop manager glanced nervously at Ethan, as though unsure how to proceed.
I raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter? Don't I have the right to take my own property?"
"Of course, of course," he stammered, hurriedly moving to handle the paperwork. "I'll get everything in order for you, Miss Emily."
After everything was settled, I walked out of the store, violin in hand, without a single glance back at Ethan or Sophia.
*******
（Ethan's POV）
That evening, I arrived home on time, something rare for me. Yet, to my surprise, Emily wasn't waiting for me with dinner, as she usually did.
When dinner time came, Caleb came downstairs, just like he always did. But when he entered the dining room, his confusion was clear. The table was empty, and there was no meal waiting for him.
"Dad, isn't Mom making dinner tonight?" he asked, looking around as if expecting her to appear at any moment.
Emily had always been the perfect wife, the kind who never complained, never argued. She stuck to her role, even if it meant suppressing her own feelings. I had never felt much for her, but I had to admit, she had always done her part.
Caleb had a sensitive stomach and was quite picky about food, but Emily always made sure he ate right. She didn't rely on anyone to help; it was always her preparing his meals, from dinner to snacks.
I thought back to the events of the day, my lips pressing into a thin line. If Emily thought this was some kind of game, that withholding dinner would force my hand, she was sadly mistaken. She had no idea how much I had already given up for her.
I shook my head, my voice flat. "Don't worry about it. Let's go out for dinner."
Caleb's face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Great! Can we invite Auntie Soph to come too? I want more Snickers!"
"Snickers?" I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Didn't your mom say you were allergic to peanuts? Why are you asking for Snickers?"
Caleb shrugged, not seeming concerned. "My peanut allergy is way better now, Dad. The doctor said it's fine to have a little sometimes. But Mom, she always tries to control everything I do, telling me what I can and can't eat."
"Control." The word felt strange coming from a five-year-old.
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
I glanced at the screen—Sophia.
I answered the call, trying to mask the irritation in my voice. "Hello?"
"Ethan, are you home yet?" Sophia's voice drifted through the phone.
"I'm home," I replied, my tone flat.
"Is Emily home?" she asked, a hint of concern creeping into her voice.
I paused for a moment, wondering where this was going. "What's going on?"
"I think I saw Emily..." Sophia hesitated, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "She was having dinner with a younger man. They seemed pretty close."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
Sophia hesitated again, her voice softer now. "Do you think the issues from earlier today are what made Emily upset? Maybe you should talk to her, explain things."
I could feel my chest tighten as the realization sank in. Emily wasn't home, preparing dinner for her family. She was out with another man.
A coldness crept into my voice without me realizing it. "Where is she now?"
Sophia gave me an address, and I muttered a quick "Got it," before hanging up abruptly.
I stood in the silence of the empty house, the weight of the situation settling on me. Emily, my wife—she was out there, not at home, not taking care of Caleb, but with another man.