After I Stopped Loving Him (Isabella and Ethan) novel Chapter 80

“My request isn’t much. I’ll eat whatever you cook. Jordan’s the only one who’s picky.”

Isabella didn’t even look at her. Natalie could say whatever she wanted. Isabella was done playing the free maid. Back when she lived with the Lanes, she didn’t have a choice. But now, she was married, and not just to anyone—she was now part of the most influential family around. Everything about her life had changed. She had zero intention of making food for people she couldn’t stand.

These days, even Ethan would have to beg, or pay a fortune, to get a meal she cooked. If there was money involved, well, that was a different story.

Natalie scowled when Isabella ignored her, spun on her heel, and marched off without another word. At the gate, she slammed it shut so hard it echoed through the morning.

The housekeepers out in the yard all glanced over, surprised by the noise. It was so early—who could have made Natalie that mad?

Natalie stormed inside, her face stormy. Isabella figured she would probably go complain to Jordan. She didn’t care. Even if Natalie said nothing, Jordan never liked her anyway. Isabella had given up trying to win him over a long time ago. She wasn’t that kid anymore, always hoping she and Jordan could be like other siblings, always trying to please him, wanting him to like her.

By her teenage years, she’d realized it didn’t matter what she did, or how much. Jordan Lane would never like her. They weren’t even really siblings. There was no blood between them.

“Good morning, Isabella,” one of the housekeepers greeted her.

Isabella smiled in return. She spotted the butler and asked lightly, “Is Ethan up yet?”

“Not yet, ma’am.”

“Okay,” Isabella said, then headed upstairs. She didn’t bother with Ethan’s door. She just went back to her own room, took a long, hot shower, and got dressed.

By the time she came down, breakfast was ready.

He collapsed into the armchair, leaning back like he could barely keep himself upright.

Isabella couldn’t help thinking, Maybe the universe actually heard my wish from last night. Maybe fate really does want Ethan to disappear early.

She kept her eyes on him.

“What are you staring at?” Ethan grumbled, his voice rough. “Can’t you tell I feel awful? You could at least pretend to care.”

He was in a terrible mood. He’d slept in because he felt so sick. He really had caught a cold. His head was throbbing, his fever was high, and he felt miserable.

This was all Isabella’s fault, he thought. She’d joked about not taking care of him if he got sick, and now here he was, actually sick. She’d totally jinxed him.