"Our relationship is fine. You don't need to worry about us," Ethan said coolly, his expression unreadable as ever. Then, almost as an afterthought, he glanced at Hailey.
She caught the cue immediately. "Yes, Mom. We're doing great. No need to worry."
But Mrs. He wasn't buying it.
"If everything's fine, why are there rumors about you two getting divorced?" she asked, raising a perfectly groomed brow.
"That's just gossip," Ethan replied in his usual low, firm voice. "We've already explained it's fake."
Mrs. He didn't look convinced. "Well, the more I think about it, the more it doesn't sound fake. Come on, tell me honestly—are you really planning to get divorced?"
There was no escaping her sharp gaze. Mrs. He Meilian wasn't someone you could fool easily. She hadn't built a household—and helped build a business empire—by being naïve.
Still, Ethan had always been more than her match in the war of words. He had the upper hand not just in intelligence, but in temperament. With that iceberg personality of his, it was nearly impossible to read him.
As for Hailey, after everything she'd lived through in her previous life—the betrayals, the pain, the death—she'd long since mastered the art of staying calm under pressure.
"It's fake," Ethan said flatly, without a flicker of emotion.
Hailey followed his lead. "Yes, it's just a rumor. No truth to it."
Mrs. He stared at them both for a long moment, then gave a soft chuckle. "If that's the case, then good. Let's eat."
Crisis averted—for now.
Ethan didn't waste time. "Then you can head home tonight, Mom. No need to stay."
Mrs. He raised a delicate eyebrow. "What, I can't spend a few days with my son and daughter-in-law?"
"It's not about that. I just don't want Dad showing up at the door looking for you."
"He knows I'm here," she replied lightly. "He even encouraged me to come. Said you looked stressed lately."
Sure he did, Ethan's face said, but he didn't argue.
"You two better not be trying to get rid of me," Mrs. He added with a sly smile. "Unless, of course, you're hiding something."
Hailey leaned in quickly, putting on her sweetest smile. "Mom, you're welcome to stay as long as you like. I'm happy to have you."
Ethan didn't even look up from his plate. "Suit yourself."
Mrs. He beamed. "That's better. Oh, and Ethan, after lunch, come with me to the study. We need to talk."
Ethan didn't respond, which—as always—meant yes.
After lunch, mother and son headed to the study.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Mrs. He dropped the polite facade.
"Tell me the truth. Are you getting a divorce?"
"I already told you—no."
Mrs. He folded her arms. "Ethan, I gave birth to you. I raised you. Do you really think I can't tell when you're lying? You probably can't wait to get away from that girl."
Ethan didn't even try to deny it. "Then why ask?"
Mrs. He sighed. "So it's true. You're seriously considering it?"
"I'm not ruling it out."
She sat down in the armchair opposite him, frowning. "Hailey might be a little willful, but she loves you. Can't you at least try to accept her?"
Ethan gave a dry laugh. "Don't expect me to treasure something that was forced on me."
"Don't talk about her like that."
"Why not?" he said coldly. "Isn't that exactly what happened?"
Mrs. He looked at him in frustration. "So you're punishing her because you're still angry at us for arranging the marriage?"
"I married her, didn't I?" His tone was sharp now. "Isn't that enough of a compromise?"
"But you don't love her."
"Was love ever part of the deal?" he snapped. "You all pushed for the marriage. I did it. But you don't get to dictate how I feel."
Mrs. He fell silent for a long moment, studying him.
This was the son she'd raised—brilliant, composed, and maddeningly unyielding. He never shouted. Never lost control. But once he made up his mind, not even an earthquake could move him.
He wasn't just cold—he was armored. Even his own parents couldn't get close to that frozen core of his.
And yet, there was something else. A flicker in his eyes when he spoke about Hailey. Not love. Not affection. But maybe… fear?
Not of her, but of himself.
Mrs. He softened her voice. "Ethan, I know you're angry. At us. At this whole marriage. But don't take it out on Hailey. I've seen her lately. She doesn't look at you the way she used to."
That made him pause.
"She used to look at you like you were her whole world," Mrs. He continued. "Now? There's distance in her eyes. Like she's preparing to walk away."
Ethan didn't respond, but his jaw tightened ever so slightly.
"She might stop loving you one day," Mrs. He said quietly. "And when that day comes, you might finally realize what you lost. Just… don't wait until it's too late."
She stood and walked toward the door, giving him a moment to process.
Ethan sat there, staring out the window.
Was she right?
He wasn't sure.
But for the first time in a long time, the idea of Hailey not being in his life sent a strange, unfamiliar chill through his spine—colder even than the walls he'd built around his heart.