Sophia sidestepped.

Ethan's lips brushed past her cheek.

The air froze instantly.

His slender fingers slid from her chin to grip her waist.

"Cousin?" His voice was low. "That's how you introduce me to Julian?"

Sophia's lashes fluttered. "With the divorce pending, why make a scene? The Sullivans are prominent. I don't want future gossip."

Ethan's gaze darkened. "How considerate."

"Small fry must protect themselves." Her lips curled self-deprecatingly.

"Small fry?" He chuckled. "No one else in the city gets Ethan Sullivan's undivided attention."

Her ears burned as she turned to leave.

A phone rang abruptly.

Ethan pulled out his device—Isabella's name glared from the screen.

"Answer it," Sophia said without turning.

"You don't mind?"

She clenched her sweater hem. "Don't keep her waiting."

The call connected. Isabella's fragile voice floated through: "Ethan, I can't eat unless you visit me..."

Sophia suddenly leaned toward the receiver. "Darling, I'm waiting."

Dead silence.

Ethan arched a brow.

Their locked eyes sparked invisible currents.

Finally, Isabella's weak voice came through: "I'll...let you go."

After hanging up, Sophia said flatly, "Go. Severe depression patients can't wait."

Ethan ruffled her hair. "I need to make a call outside."

In the courtyard, he dialed Alexander. "Watch Isabella. She just had an episode."

"She's too spoiled," Alexander apologized. "Your wife isn't upset?"

"Magnanimous as ever." Ethan gazed at distant mountains, voice soft.

Returning inside, he found Sophia reading in bed.

He nuzzled her hair. "I'm leaving."

"Mmm."

"I'll come tonight."

"Don't bother." She turned a page. "I survived twenty-three years without you."

Ethan laughed low. "Soft outside, heart of stone."

She pressed her lips together.

He stood. "No goodbye?"

Only after his footsteps faded did Sophia set the book down, staring at the window.

At the village entrance, Ethan eyed Julian coldly. "Leaving when?"

"Day after." Julian smiled. "Sophia needs dressing changes."

Ethan glanced at bodyguards eating instant noodles. "Protect Madam."

In the car, the housekeeper stammered: "Madam was...polite to Dr. Evans..."

"Let her be." Ethan handed her a check. "Just no alone time."

As the car started, a white figure appeared in the rearview mirror.

Ethan's lips quirked up.

Rounding the mountain bend, memories surged.

Three years ago, their first meeting—she'd stood in icy wind with gifts, fingers red from cold.

That day, they'd gotten married.

She became Mrs. Sullivan.