chapter 5

In the dead of night, heavy rain pelted the windows with a relentless rhythm.

"Mom… I want Dad…" Juliet curled up in my arms, scared by the evening's events, her little face flushed with fever.

I held her tightly and kept dialing Andrew's number, over and over.

"Hello, the number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable…" The only response was the cold, mechanical voice repeating each time.

I pulled a blanket around Juliet, summoning all my strength to lift her.

Stepping outside, the icy rain soaked me instantly.

I carried her to the car, settled her into the back seat, and climbed into the driver's seat myself.

My soaked clothes clung to me, and I shivered violently in the cold.

…

"Has the child ever had a febrile seizure? Let's take her temperature first!" At the hospital, the ER nurse quickly took Juliet from my arms.

I was soaking wet and completely disheveled as I trudged toward the payment window.

As I reached the front, I noticed a familiar figure holding a payment slip.

It was Andrew's driver, Truman.

He froze when he saw me, his eyes darting nervously. "Ms. Read… what are you doing here?"

My voice was hoarse as I glanced at the payment slip in his hand. The department listed on it was Orthopedics, and the amount wasn't small.

Truman followed my gaze, his hand trembling so much he almost dropped the payment slip.

It wasn't Andrew.

"Who?" I asked, shifting my eyes from the payment slip to him.

"Ms. Read… Mr. Morton… Ms. Alexander… she…" His words stumbled out.

"She was injured… Someone hit her. It's serious. Mr. Morton got the call and… rushed over." He lowered his head, avoiding my eyes.

Juliet was fighting for her life in the ER, while her father was fussing over another woman in a hospital room.

Even though I had grown numb and hollow toward Andrew, facing this reality still sent waves of twisting pain through my chest.

I walked toward the ward Truman had mentioned.

At the end of the hallway, the door to the VIP room was slightly ajar, and I stood in the shadows outside.

"…Elise, don't be afraid. It's okay now. That bastard!" Andrew's voice carried both worry and anger.

"Andrew…" Elise's voice was weak and pitiful, quivering with tears.

"He came looking for money… said he owed another gambling debt… 50 thousand dollars… I don't have that kind of money! When I said no, he hit me…"

"Don't cry, don't cry," Andrew's voice softened immediately.

"Stay here with me, you're safe! That bastard! How did you end up with someone like him?"

"I… my family forced me at the time." Elise sobbed.

"Andrew… you've always been the kindest to me. Seeing Monica today, that necklace… It's exactly like the one we designed together back then… it hurts so much."

Outside the door, my body stiffened.

The platinum necklace around my neck was the one Andrew had given me when he proposed.

He said it was custom-made, one of a kind.

So… the one-of-a-kind thing wasn't the necklace. It was their memories.

A few seconds of silence passed in the room.

Then Andrew's voice rang out again. "Elise, all these years, I… I've actually never stopped thinking about you."

Then Elise began to cry loudly.

Then Andrew's voice, filled with disgust, rang out. "As for Monica, I've long since had enough of her, enough of her family's high-and-mighty attitude! If it weren't for… forget it! I don't want to live like this one more day!"

"Are you two getting a divorce?" Elise stopped crying, asking cautiously, with barely concealed hope. "Monica… would she agree?"

"Her?" Andrew sneered, full of contempt and certainty.

"All these years, the Read family's company has been under my control inside and out. Her? Now she's just a powerless housewife, with parents she can't rely on, spinning her life around me and the child!

"Whether she agrees or not isn't up to her."

"Andrew…" Elise's voice choked with a mix of joy and tears.

I couldn't hear the rest of their conversation.

It turned out that my 10 years of marriage, my 10 years of devotion, meant nothing to him—just a chain he needed to break free from.

A surge of anger and sheer disbelief swept through me, wiping out the last traces of attachment.

I turned and walked away from that half-open door, away from that nauseating "confession of love."

At the same time, I pulled out my phone and dialed my best friend.

"Sophia, help me. I… I'm getting a divorce."