Chapter 2

I rubbed my eyes, thinking I had made a mistake.

I picked up the diary and walked into the living room.

I read the words again.

“I wish Mom would disappear.

"She’s so scary when she freaks out at Dad. She made him leave."

I collapsed onto the couch, numb from the pain. For the first time, I understood what it felt like to be so hurt that you’re beyond feeling.

The light in Emmanuel’s study clicked off as he strolled out, his face cheerful—until he saw me.

Immediately, he reverted to his cold, distant self.

Without saying a word, he grabbed the car keys off the coffee table.

As he passed by me, I smelled the familiar scent of sandalwood.

That was the cologne I had picked out for him back when we were dating in college.

Back then, he was just a nerdy guy with black-framed glasses, a white T-shirt, and shorts—someone who had no idea how to dress.

I’d gradually updated his style, choosing my favorite cologne for him.

"Wear cologne when you’re meeting girls—it’ll make them like you more," I’d teased him.

He’d said he cherished anything I chose for him.

And he’d worn it ever since.

The familiar scent unlocked a flood of memories, and suddenly, all the beautiful moments from our past came rushing back.

I thought about our ridiculous standoff, about our son, whom I loved more than anything.

The pain my son had caused me was overwhelming, and I desperately needed something to hold onto. Once again, I caved in and swallowed my pride with Emmanuel.

I couldn’t stop myself from standing up and grabbing his arm.

“Emmanuel, let’s talk.”

I cried silently behind him.

He shook my hand off.

That’s when I noticed the call still active on his phone.

It was late. Who was he talking to? And why had he put on cologne before going to meet them?

“Emmanuel, are you on your way? I’m waiting downstairs. I’ve been craving BBQ for ages!”

A girl’s playful voice came through the phone.

That soft, sweet voice reminded me why we were fighting in the first place.

I spun around to leave, but Emmanuel grabbed me back.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Beg me, and I’ll stay with you and Oliver.”

Emmanuel always loved seeing me bend, watching me beg for his forgiveness—especially now, with another woman vying for his attention.

It felt like he was offering his presence as some sort of royal gift.