The Silent Womb's Revenge

Chapter 22

As the plane touched down in the foreign airport, Ethan Sullivan's palms were damp with sweat.

The taxi raced along the coastal highway, his heartbeat accelerating with every digit that climbed on the meter. When the restaurant's sign came into view, the surge of anticipation twisted into unease.

Three months.

She must have seen all those public apologies, right? Had she listened to the long voice messages he sent in the dead of night? Ethan tightened his grip on the location details in his hand—this was the first time he'd gotten a solid lead.

If she had let him find her, did that mean forgiveness was within reach?

"It has to be," Ethan murmured to himself, his fingers tracing the edge of the insulated lunchbox. Inside were freshly steamed shrimp dumplings, the kind with thin wrappers and generous fillings, each pleat meticulously folded—just like the specialty they used to queue for in the cafeteria on the day they first met.

The beaded curtain of the guesthouse chimed in the sea breeze, and Ethan froze. Sunlight filtered through the colored beads, scattering tiny specks of light across the floor, reminding him of a late night when Sophia had curled up on the couch flipping through a travel magazine and said, "When you have time, let’s go see the world."

What had he said back then? Probably just a distracted "Mm" from behind a stack of documents.

The bouquet of purple roses from the florist still glistened with morning dew. Ethan counted exactly thirty-three—the age they’d been when they met. He climbed the stairs quietly, careful not to disrupt the fragile possibility of this long-awaited reunion.

"Sophia—" The lunchbox nearly slipped from his grasp as he pushed open the door.

A housekeeper changing the sheets looked up. "The guest just checked out."

——

When the boarding announcement echoed through the airport, Sophia Williams was staring absently at the runway outside the window. Alexander Johnson’s live location still glowed on her phone—the red dot now deep in a rainforest trek, three hundred kilometers away.

A trending notification suddenly popped up: #CEO_Sullivan_Chases_His_Wife_Across_Borders# The blurry photo showed Ethan clutching the insulated box, but the comments were in an uproar:

[Someone caught Mr. Sullivan buying purple roses!]

[That lunchbox definitely has shrimp dumplings! He won the campus belle’s heart with those back at the anniversary gala!]

Sophia turned off her screen. She remembered clearly—after that food poisoning incident, she’d never touched shrimp dumplings again.

The boarding gate began processing passengers. As Sophia lifted her luggage, she turned on instinct—

At the far end of the terminal, Ethan was pushing against the crowd, searching desperately. The roses in his hand had wilted, his suit was crumpled, but his eyes burned with startling intensity the moment their gazes met.

"Sophia!"

She turned and merged into the boarding line. Outside the window, the bouquet of purple roses hit the marble floor with a heavy thud, petals scattering like broken promises.