CHAPTER 4

Chapter 4: The Poisoned Gift

The heavy oak front door clicked shut, and Ethan walked into the living room, loosening his tie with a long, exhausted sigh. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot, and his phone hadn’t stopped buzzing in his pocket since he stepped into the house. 

“Aria!” Ethan called out, his voice sharp and tight with tension. “Where are you?” 

I stepped out of the kitchen, wearing a simple apron and carrying a silver tray with a steaming mug of hot chamomile tea. I kept my posture small, my head slightly bowed, looking like the same obedient, fearful wife I had been for five agonizing years. 

“I’m right here, Ethan,” I said softly, setting the mug down on the glass table. “You look so stressed. Is everything alright at the office?”