Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph
Chapter 197 Wish You a Safe Journey

He was looking for my opinion, but Ethan's actions and his quickening breaths were screaming, "He can't hold it in anymore."

Women had this milky scent when they were breastfeeding, and it seemed to drive him wild.

The moment my breast was barely touched, the breast milk, already ready to burst, flowed out like a dam breaking, soaking my shirt in no time.

He had me straddle him, placing me on the desk, kissing me like a pro. Even though we'd been apart for over six months, we still knew each other's bodies so well, and he easily lit my fire. My body was all in, but my mind was a mess.

I was struggling, conflicted, torn! My hands weakly tried to push him away.

"Honey. I've missed you so much!" Ethan's seductive voice was slowly breaking down my defenses.

Flashes of memories hit me, especially that recording. Remembering him saying he didn't love me was like a cold shower, snapping me back to reality.

I suddenly shoved him away, trying to catch my breath.

He looked at me, confused, his eyes burning with desire.

When he reached out to touch my face, I dodged, stood up, and clutched my open shirt, trying to cover myself.

"I'm going to change my clothes." I bolted to the small break room.

Closing the door, I leaned against it, taking deep breaths. Wanting a man might be separate from love, but for me, it was all tangled up; I couldn't just ignore my feelings.

I found a new shirt and changed out of the soaked one.

When I opened the break room door, Ethan was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for me. I walked out calmly, and he pulled me into his arms. He had calmed down a bit, but his breathing was still uneven, and his heartbeat was strong. "Honey, you're still mad at me," he whispered in my ear.

I gently pushed Ethan away, walked back to my desk, sat down, and opened a file, not looking up. "If you really can't hold it in, you can find someone else."

The air was thick with tension, like a thousand drawn bows ready to pierce my heart.

After a while, I finally heard Ethan's footsteps moving.

He stopped across the desk, silent for a long time.

But I didn't dare look up at him, nor could I guess if his hands in his pockets were relaxed or clenched.

"Emily, I'm human, not driven by base instincts. All my uncontrollable feelings are because it's you. I'll go check on the kids."

He left, leaving me feeling empty. I adjusted the mirror and saw my flushed cheeks and swollen lips. His words before he left brought a wave of sadness.

We acted like nothing had happened. Ethan was still good to me and the kids, but he never initiated anything intimate again.

He smoked on the balcony, staring at the city lights, while I watched his melancholic silhouette.

When the twins turned 100 days old, we took them for a photo shoot. After photographing the twins, the photographer suggested family photos.

In the dressing room, I couldn't zip up my dress. Suddenly, Ethan's hands zipped it up for me. I awkwardly brushed my hair, but he stopped me, turned my shoulders, and looked at me.

"I have a flight to Starlight City at 8 AM tomorrow."

I stared at him, stunned.

The news came out of nowhere.

Even though we'd been distant lately, his sudden announcement of leaving made the pain in my heart feel very real.

Seeing my dazed expression, he filled his eyes with an unbreakable tenderness

He pulled me into his arms, a hug without desire but with a hint of reluctance.

"So let's take a good family photo. After the shoot, will you have dinner with me? Just the two of us?"

He let go of me, stubbornly staring at me, waiting for my answer.

I lowered my eyes and softly agreed, and he smiled with satisfaction.

Coming out of the dressing room, we sat close together as the photographer instructed, with him holding our daughter and me holding our son.

The photographer raised the camera and said, "Smile a bit more. Look, your twins are so adorable. You are really happy and enviable."

Ethan suddenly freed one hand to wrap around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

At that moment, Hunter, sitting on my lap, suddenly sneezed, and Harper followed with a sneeze too.

The two little ones looked at each other, and I suddenly burst into laughter.

Ethan lowered his eyes to look at me, his eyes also filled with laughter.

The photographer seized the moment, capturing the scene, and then stood up, saying, "Alright, you can come to choose the photos in a few days."

Leaving the photo studio, Ethan and I took the kids home and left them with the Postpartum Doula.

I showered, threw on a chic winter outfit, and put on some light makeup. Thanks to some serious postpartum recovery, my figure was even better than before, surprising a lot of my clients. Feeling like I was about to go on a date, I nervously grabbed my bag and stepped out of the room.

Ethan was out on the balcony, smoking. I called out to his back, "Alright, we can go now."

He turned around, looking a bit stunned.

He stubbed out his cigarette and walked towards me, his eyes full of admiration.

"You look beautiful!"

Clutching my bag, I stayed silent.

For the first time, I wore four-inch high heels. Standing next to the tall Ethan, I didn't have to look up as much. Aurora once said high heels naturally boosted a woman's confidence and aura.

Ethan drove us to a five-star hotel, where a waiter led us to a reserved private room. The room was spacious and fancy, with a dining table, TV, sofa, and even a bed. Dim lights, candles, red wine, and soothing music set the mood.

We sat at opposite ends of the table. Across the flickering candlelight, I gazed at him. He had taken off his suit jacket and was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves half-rolled and the top two buttons undone, showing off his firm chest. He opened a bottle of red wine and placed it on the table. As the conveyor belt gently rolled, the bottle stopped in front of me. I poured myself a glass. He did the same with another bottle.

After a while, there was a knock on the door. Ethan used a remote to open it, and a waiter pushed in a dining cart.

After placing the food from the cart onto the table, the waiter politely said, "Enjoy your meal."

The large dining table had dishes slowly moving on the conveyor belt.

"Have a drink with me first," Ethan said, raising his glass.

I looked at him. "You."

He smiled faintly at me. "Don't worry. I went to the hospital for a check-up. The doctor said my stomach has recovered well, and it's okay for me to drink moderately." He still knew me so well.

I picked up my glass, the wine reflecting a mesmerizing glow in the candlelight.

I raised my glass to him and then drank it all in one go.

Since getting pregnant, I hadn't touched alcohol. The taste of red wine wasn't too strong, sweet with a hint of bitterness and a touch of astringency.

"Emily, I know you don't want to go back to Starlight City right now, right?" Ethan suddenly asked.

I looked at him through the candlelight and suddenly smiled bitterly.

"Not just for now, I don't know if I'll ever go back."

Ethan didn't say anything, picking up a plate of steak and cutting it piece by piece.

His long fingers held the knife and fork, and he looked so good concentrating on cutting the steak.

After cutting it, he placed the steak on the conveyor belt.

"Eat something first," he said.

I picked up the steak and took a bite.

For some reason, I couldn't taste anything, even though a top chef prepared it at a five-star hotel.

I refilled my glass and raised it to Ethan, pretending to be relaxed. "Have a good journey!"

Ethan raised his glass and took a sip while I downed mine. I lost track of how much I had drunk, and my vision started to blur.

The luxurious private room, with its opulent furnishings and fine tableware, screamed wealth. Spending in such high-end places no longer felt wasteful to me. But everything seemed cold and distant, just like the state between Ethan and me. Feeling dizzy, I supported my head with one hand. As I stared at the neatly cut steak, my nose suddenly stung, and tears flowed. Ethan's past kindness and care couldn't be compared to a plate of steak. But good times never lasted; everything changed.

I had succeeded and made a lot of money, but I couldn't find that happiness again. I poured the remaining wine into my glass and drank it all. When I put down the glass, I was already a bit drunk.

Through tear-filled eyes, I couldn't see Ethan clearly. Through the flickering light, he seemed distant and unreachable.

When people got drunk, they became more vulnerable, easily breaking down and wanting to vent their suppressed emotions. I looked at that blurry figure and suddenly burst into tears.

I rambled on, "Ethan, you shouldn't have come. I finally managed to try to forget you. I finally became strong. But with you here, all my efforts are in vain. Do you know how hard it is to forget you? I've tried so hard, but I just can't. Didn't you say you didn't love me? If you don't love me, why do you keep entangling with me? Why won't you let me go? Ethan, having you in my heart is too painful."

I wiped my tears messily until I felt an arm pull me into an embrace.

"When did I ever say I didn't love you?"