A shiver of anticipation ran through her, a quiet joy blooming deep within.

The persistent vibration of her phone on the nightstand shattered the silence.

Her hand shook slightly as she reached for it.

A warm, maternal voice spoke with gentle care on the other end. “Mrs. Blackwood, I’ve made some chicken soup for you. Please have some when you’re ready; it will help you regain your strength.”

It was Margaret Taylor, the loyal housekeeper who had served Isabella and Ethan for many years.

“Thank you, Margaret. I appreciate your kindness,” Isabella replied, her tone polite but laced with clear disappointment.

As she ended the call, all color drained from her face.

It wasn’t Ethan.

The tiny flicker of hope in her heart was instantly crushed.

A bitter laugh escaped her. She had let her fantasies get the best of her again.

How could Ethan, a man of his stature, ever bother to care for her—the wife he intended to discard?

He was undoubtedly with Sophia now, showering her with attention and affection.

Isabella drank the warm chicken soup, feeling a small sense of comfort seep into her tired body.

She applied some blush to hide her pallor, picked up her bag, and headed to work.

The moment she stepped into the office, Chloe immediately approached, her face etched with concern.

“Isabella, are you okay?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“Just a minor cold. I’ll be fine after some rest,” Isabella replied, forcing a weak smile.

“But you look so pale,” Chloe noted, placing a cup of hot apple cider on Isabella’s desk. “Drink this. It’s fantastic for your immune system and fighting colds—it works wonders!”

With a bright smile and an enthusiastic thumbs-up, Chloe warmly endorsed the drink.

Amusement flickered in Isabella’s eyes as a soft warmth filled her heart. “Thank you,” she whispered gently.

“It’s nothing. We’re colleagues, after all. It’s only natural to look out for each other,” Chloe responded, giving Isabella’s shoulder a reassuring pat.

Isabella nodded, her emotions tangled and complex.

Despite being married, it was a colleague, not her husband, who offered her comfort and concern.

And Ethan—where was he now? And who was he with?

Just then, a soft, apologetic voice drifted from the hallway, halting Isabella’s spiraling thoughts.

“Ethan, I didn’t mean to take so much of your time—I’m sorry about that.”

There was no mistaking that voice—it could only be Sophia.

A chill ran down Isabella’s spine. She instinctively turned, her eyes locking onto the woman’s silhouette. Her body stiffened, her face growing even paler.

Chloe, noticing the sudden change in Isabella, followed her gaze and saw an elegant woman with her back turned. The woman tilted her head slightly, revealing the graceful curve of her slender neck, her lips curved into a radiant smile directed at the man in front of her.