Chapter 28

Ethan Blackwood never anticipated discovering 300,000 active users in this forum. It ranked among the top five most engaged communities on the entire platform.

He'd foolishly assumed it was just a niche fan group. But they moved like an army. No wonder a single livestream had catapulted him into trending headlines.

His fingers scrolled relentlessly, eyes locked on the screen.

[This is everything! Look at them! Just LOOK!]

[Oh my god, Vivian's gaze is pure devotion. That man doesn’t deserve her!]

[Classic opposites attract—icy CEO Ethan Blackwood secretly adores his wife just as much as she loves him!]

Threads exploded every few minutes—old photos, conspiracy theories, even fabricated dialogues between him and Vivian.

For the first time, Ethan realized how many pictures existed of them together. More startling was how openly Vivian’s affection shone in every image.

One post dominated the feed with an alarming number of likes. A fanfiction by Lockhart_Hunter.

[Their first encounter happened on a storm-swept summer night. While others fled the rain, their eyes met across the crowded street…]

Ethan’s pulse spiked. He tapped the link—only for a 404 error to mock him. The post had vanished.

"Damn it." His jaw clenched. He’d wanted to read just a little more.

Now he understood the forum’s grip. These writers were dangerously talented. Once you stepped into this world, escaping was nearly impossible.

He forced himself to exit the page. If he kept reading, he might actually start believing in whatever fantasy they’d spun about his marriage.

Night draped over the city. Despite a productive day, an odd hollowness gnawed at him.

In his silent office, Ethan scrolled absently through his phone before zoning out, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Vivian lounged on her couch, skimming a parenting book when her phone rang. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen.

"I’m at The Crystal Rose." The call ended before she could respond.

Vivian blinked at the dead line. "What’s his problem?"

In three years of marriage, he’d never once called her directly. Everything went through his assistant, Ethan Young. Only for emergencies.

Well, this is new.

A year ago, she’d have squealed, rushed to doll up, and floated to the restaurant on cloud nine.

Now? She almost dismissed it as a prank.

Finishing her book, she watched a documentary, tinkered with code, and by 10 PM, prepared for bed with a face mask.

"Are you coming? I’ve waited two hours." His voice crackled with barely contained fury.

Vivian’s brows shot up. Is he mentally stable?

I never agreed to meet. Since when does a CEO have time to idle around for hours?

"Get here. Now." The line went dead again.

"Ugh! Unbelievable!" She flung her phone onto the couch.

How did I ever think Prince Charming wasn’t deranged? This is next-level petty.

She resolved to ignore him—until her traitorous mind conjured an image of him alone in some dim, empty restaurant.

Guilt prickled.

Fine. It’s only a mile away.

She marched out in cartoon-print pajamas, hair piled messily, face bare.

At 10:30 PM, The Crystal Rose stood deserted except for one figure by the window.

Ethan sat silhouetted against the city lights, gaze distant and unreadable. Even annoyed, Vivian’s breath hitched. Devastatingly handsome. Pity he’s insufferable.

She approached. "What’s so urgent, future ex-husband? Couldn’t this wait?"

He turned, scanning her pajamas with a sneer. "Really? This is how you show up?"

"You’re getting demoted to ‘ex’ anyway. Why bother impressing you?" She dropped into the chair opposite him. "Besides, my best version couldn’t keep you. Why waste effort now?"

His eyes locked onto hers, intensity burning. "So you did love me."